Ripples Through Time
by Quietsan
Summary: Ever since that day, Eren keeps getting visions about a person whose face he can't see, and it's slowly claiming every part of his life. When he finally receives help from an institution in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that there might be more to his visions than he first thought. Reincarnation fic. Modern AU. Eren X Levi. Rated M for later chapters. Possible spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: This is my first fanfic, and truly one of the first stories I've seriously tried to write down, so of course it's about Eren and Levi!

Warnings: The story incorporates some themes about implied mental illness, so if that makes you uncomfortable, you can choose to continue reading or not :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin or any of the characters!**

* * *

There's a man standing behind me, in the mirror. I reached out a finger to trace the lines of his back on the moist glass before me.

Pale skin, almost like ivory stood in sharp contrast to the dark strands of hair which lightly touched the tips of his ears. His slender neck curved down into strong shoulders clad in a crisp white shirt. As in a daze, my eyes lingered on the side of his neck. My finger, still on the mirror, trembled, and I could feel tears burn at the back of my eyes.

_Who are you_?

My thought was silent, but he acted like he heard me. Shifting slightly, he turned his head in my direction. I squinted my eyes to see him more clearly, but his features stayed distorted, hidden from me. My throat tightened, and I swallowed. I ached to see that face. I _needed_ to see that face.

"Who are you?" I breathed, and followed the curve of his now exposed jawline with my finger.

The words were not more than a whisper, but fear of shattering the glass, and losing the image of him forever, kept my voice low. And desperate.

At that, his head tipped down a fraction, along with his shoulders, and just that slight movement made my chest clench. I could feel warm tears trail down my cheeks, leaving my face hot and wet. The desperation laid quivering in my chest, and threatened to rip itself out of my throat, and a small whimper escaped my trembling lips.

Again, he tilted his head towards me, and I could see the outline of his lips, moving soundlessly.

"Who are you?!" I cried out, and whirled around to find myself alone in the bathroom.

_Always alone._

Staring into the air where he just stood, I pressed my hands to my head and sank to the floor. Pain spread through me, burning through my limbs and up to my chest. I clenched my face together and tried to catch my ragged breath, but even breathing hurt.

_Everything fucking hurt. _

For some time I just sat there, and kept my head between my knees. I couldn't keep one coherent thought in my mind. Everything was a blur, and kept slipping more and more away. What had the color of his hair been?

_Breathe, Eren_, I tried to convince myself.

_Fuck you, Eren_, my mind screamed, and drew me back into thoughts about him.

_W-what had he even looked like?_ I clawed my hands against my head and tried to remember.

Nothing. I could remember… nothing. Only… the feeling. I squeezed my eyes shut. Longing. No, desperation. I needed to see him. Why?

By the time the image had slipped away, both my breathing and racing heart had calmed down, allowing the rest of my body to relax. I wiped away a few strands of hair which laid plastered on my forehead. With only little strength left in my legs, I rose shakily from the floor and leaned against the sink.

They called this panic disorder, chronic fatigue, or even perhaps post-traumatic stress. Honestly, I'd lost track of the different diagnoses they had put on me for the last year. Ever since the accident, these episodes, or whatever you call them, have occurred, and they always leave me in a state of…

**Knock, knock! **

"Eren? We need to leave now, Armin is waiting for us."

I jerked my head up, and hurriedly turned the water tap on, slapping cool water on my tear-streaked face.

"I'll be right out Mikasa!" I mumbled while reaching for a towel to dry my face and hands. With some effort I patted down the mop of brown hair on my head, which was still damp from the shower I took earlier. My blue t-shirt and jeans looked mostly unharmed by my –episode- so I just quickly smoothed them down, not wanting her to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Before I opened the door I took a deep breath and put a carefully practiced smile on my face.

My sister, though, was not easily fooled. She looked at me closely, concern evident in her grey eyes.

She started to reach out a hand to touch my still slightly reddened face. "Eren? Are you alright?"

Before she could reach me I gently brushed her hand away. "I'm fine," I said evasively, and tried to sidestep her but instead she gripped my arm, and I knew there were no means of escape. I didn't really want to admit it, but Mikasa is probably several times stronger than I am.

"Your face is flushed. Did you have another attack?"

I tried hard not to meet her eyes, and instead fixed my gaze at the red scarf around her neck. I knew she's worried about me, but these constant questions truly makes me feel like her little brother, with emphasis on _little_.

"Its fine, it's not like it's the first time." The words came out a bit harsher than I meant them to be, and I felt her grip around my arm loosen.

"Sorry," I mumbled immediately, and peered up at her. To others her face may appear calm, but I could see the quiet worry still lingering in her grey eyes. A twinge of guilt gnawed in my stomach. It was my fault she had to worry all the time.  
I shifted uneasily where I stood, not sure what to say. Even though she was my sister, it didn't make it easier talking about stuff like this. "It's just…I'm just nervous about today, I guess," I said, trying to sound a bit more cheerful. I tugged at the ends of her scarf and tied them into a loose knot resting on her chest.

She seemed to ponder the truth of my answer since she didn't make any effort to try and get any more out of me. And for that, I was grateful. For a moment or two, we just stood there, regarding each other. Finally she came to the conclusion that either I was telling the truth, or that I wasn't going to say anything else.

"Okay, I'll wait in the car," she said and gently squeezed my arm.

I nudged my head towards the bedroom, "Just going to grab my stuff".

.

.

Looking through my closet I decided on a thickly-knit grey sweater, and shrugged it on. Feeling the soft material on my skin, and though the smell was long gone, I imagined it still smelled like my mother did. Like the way your home smells, but you only realize it when you have been away for a long time.

She had kind eyes, and people often said that mine looked just like hers, though hers were brown, and mine are green, with a splash of blue. Just like the ocean, she used to tell me. When I was little she used to ruffle my hair, and promise we would go there one day. But that day never came.

I ran a hand over the sweater, and a small smile curved my lips. "I'll go there one day, mom, and then I'll promise to come and tell you about it."

Since it was only the beginning of October, and I was often too warm as it was, I let the jacket hang in the closet and clicked the door shut. The suitcase, which I admittedly packed hastily only an hour ago, sat on my bed, so I grabbed it with one hand and swiped the other over the nightstand to retrieve my keys. Sunlight caught on the small keychain, and cast glimmers into my eyes. There was a small silvery plate dangling from the delicate chain, showing a pair of interlocked wings. My father gave it to me when I was little, and the memory simultaneously makes me smile _and_ grit my teeth.

Smile, because of how happy I was back then. All us of were together. Mom, dad, me and Mikasa.

Grit my teeth because that's all that he left behind when he decided to leave us.  
No, not really, I correct myself, he also left me a bank account, and supposedly a safety deposit box, though I never bothered about those things.

Not until now anyway.

Without giving the keys or the room a second glance I strode outside.

After locking up my apartment, I headed outside where Mikasa was waiting for me in the car. Since Mikasa had a part-time job as a trainer close to her university, she managed to save up to buy her now most prized Toyota. The sleek, red vehicle was polished to the extent I could almost see my reflection in the metallic surface. When I squinted my eyes to see, the unwelcomed thought crept into my mind again. The stranger in the mirror. I pushed the image away before it could throw me into another attack. I tossed the bag into the trunk, slammed the door shut and slid into the passenger seat, with the keys still in my hand.

Mikasa remained quiet until we reached the first traffic light, a few blocks from the apartment.

"Are you sure about this, Eren?"

I heard the question, but didn't answer right away. At first, when people asked me that, I wasn't sure at all. Like, who actually _wants_ to go to a place like that?

"Yeah," I finally managed to say, my gaze drifting back to the silvery key-chain in my hand.

"I can stay with you for a few days, you don't know any of those people there, it's not safe-"

I cut her off before she could go on with explaining how helpless I am, and sent her an annoyed glare. "Mikasa, I'm already 19. I don't need my sister to babysit me."

She just stared straight ahead, her expression guarded, but I saw her knuckles around the steering wheel turned white.

"Eren, you're my brother, I worry about you."

My glare dropped and I slumped into my seat. "I know, I know, but you don't need to save me. We aren't kids anymore."

She cast me a sideways glance, and raised one eyebrow. "No?"

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I turned my head away from her. "That was months ago, Mikasa, and Jean was being an asshole."

"Okay," she said, and from her tone I knew her lips where turned up into a pleased smile underneath her scarf.

.

.

Jean _had_ been an asshole.

It was about six months ago, just before Mikasa and Armin had moved to other parts of the city to go to college. We were out celebrating their acceptance with a few of our other friends, Reiner, Bertholdt and Connie. The night was young, the bar was packed, and we were having a great time.

And that's when Jean showed up. Jean and I had been going to high school together, and I'm not sure why, but we always managed to tick each other off. At first he lingered at the bar, together with Marco of course.

I had been chatting away with Reiner, or maybe Bertholdt, anyways, the few beers I already had in my system had started to affect me when Jean suddenly stood at our table.

Leaning in, he immediately focused on my sister. "Mikasa, I heard about your college acceptance. Congrats." He grinned in what maybe was supposed to be a charming way, but how could someone actually be charming with that kind of face?

"Thanks." Mikasa spared him a quick glance, then took a small sip of her drink and continued talking to Armin.

I noticed Jean's cheeks go slightly pink, and he gripped the ends of the table.

I couldn't help myself but let out a small snort, trying hard not to laugh at Jean's apparent humiliation. Judging from his rapid twist towards me, I hadn't been very quiet about it. He pushed away from the table, and a haughty look fell on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly upwards.

"Hey, Jaeger," he said in a smug voice, "I should congratulate you, too. Congrats to being fired again." The quiet conversation around the table died, and I clenched my fingers around the beer bottle in my hand. I refused to let him ruin my night. Jean raised one eyebrow at me and continued without pause, "What was it this time? Couldn't take the pressure?"

At that I flung myself from my seat and balled my fists. "Shut up, Jean!"

His grin widened and he stepped closer to me. Marco, who stood behind him shot me an anxious glance while he tried to urge Jean back, but clearly didn't succeed.

"Touchy subject, Jaeger?" Jean continued and looked even more pleased since his height allowed him to look down on me.

Somehow he always knew how to push my buttons. Though I had no idea how he knew about me getting fired in the first place. Despite that my friends knew about what had happened, I felt embarrassed. Because Jean had a point, or well, two points. One. I had been fired, again. Two, I hadn't been able to take the pressure. Though, not in the way he probably thought. Standing there with that stupid grin of his, Jean had no idea what I've really gone through this passing year. He had been off at his new, supposedly high-paid job, without a worry in the world.

Anger flared inside me, and my intoxication probably didn't help that fact. I was just about to grab his shirt when I felt a strong arm around my waist that dragged me backwards.

"W-what?" I managed in surprise. And of course it was Mikasa. No one could escape her iron grip. While I was focused on Jean, she had slipped in behind me, thinking the situation would go out of hand, as it always did between me and Jean.

"Let's go, Eren," she said calmly.

I struggled without luck, and could feel my cheeks warm up from embarrassment. "Wha- No, I-"

The last thing I saw was Jean, still wearing that shit-eating grin on his stupid horseface.

.

.

Mikasa pulled the car pulled to a stop outside a plain, brickwork house in a calmer neighborhood than the one I lived in. A blonde boy waved excitedly at us, and then turned back to wave at the old man sitting on the porch.

He opened the car door and plopped himself into the middle of the backseat. "Hey guys!"

I grinned and took his outstretched hand and clasped it. "Hey Armin!"

Mikasa shot him a smile, and drove away from the curb. Heading for the highway, she drove just at the speed limit. Careful as ever with her beloved car.

"Helping your grandpa over the weekend?" I asked Armin.

"Yeah, he just bought a new computer, and needed some help setting it up," he said with a shrug.

I found that thought hilarious, so with a laugh I said, "Okay, it's really cool he's into that stuff since he's so old."

Armin laughed as well. "It's possible that I might have told him about the option of buying books online, and get them delivered to the house instead of taking the bus across town to the bookstore."

_Armin and his books_. I gave him a knowing smile. "Of course you did."

I then sank back into my seat, and looked at the landscape surrounding us. With the many trees along the road their leaves colored in shades of orange and yellow, made me feel more at ease. It was rare I was even outside of the city, but whenever I got the chance I relished the peace it brought.

Armin cleared his throat behind me, and I knew he was about to say something he wasn't totally comfortable with.

"…So, how are things?"

I noticed he tried to sound casual, but the slight wavering of his voice gave him away.

"It's fine," I said, mostly out of habit, since everyone kept asking me the same thing.

Mikasa gave me a quick, questioning glance. "He had another attack before we left," she remarked, and darted her eyes back to the road.

"Mikasa!" I snapped, but managed to bite back the rest just at the tip of my tongue. I didn't want to be fighting on our last day together for what might be some time forward.

"Eren." Armin's voice was calm, but I could hear a bit of hesitation in it. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's alright. "

I sighed, and turned to face him. "The thing is…I don't know what to say."

He looked at me with about millions of questions in his eyes, but he only said, "Anything different this time?"

I tensed when the memory of what happened in the bathroom earlier drifted into my mind. "Not really," I mumbled, dragging my palms over my thighs, and then pushed them between the seat and my legs. "I saw…him…again, and as usual, it you know…it affected me."

Armin looked deep in thought where he sat in the middle of the backseat, his gaze fastened onto something far away. I hoped he didn't want to analyze it any further, the big thinker that he was.

"Then," he finally said, "I think you made a good choice going to this place."

Reluctantly I turned in my seat to wait for him to explain.

"Rose Hill is supposed to be one of the best," he continued, "after setting Granpas computer up I took another look at their homepage, and they have all the right qualifications."

Then for a moment Armin seemed to hesitate.

I frowned. "And?"

"Eren, if you don't mind me asking, how did you get a spot there?" When he saw my deepening frown, he waved his hands in the air and made a weird face at me, "And no, I'm not saying you don't deserve it or whatever, but the website said the waiting list is like a few years, and some of the doctors only take on special cases."

I realized I hadn't really told him any of the details about my admission. Since when did we not talk to each other about everything? He was my best friend after all. Deep down, I knew why. Since the…accident…I had changed. I'd started distancing myself. Not like I wasn't hanging out with my friends anymore. It was just…Something happened that day that changed me. And when Armin moved to go to college, we talked even less. Still, here he was. Here to follow me, and support me.

"Well…" I said at last, and braced myself.

While Mikasa turned off the highway onto smaller, less crowded roads, I told Armin how I'd found Rose Hill.

It was just two weeks ago, and I'd just gotten home from my last therapy session. I had been so angry, because I still wasn't making any progress. My therapist told me it would come in time, and I just needed to be patient, and had once again told me to tell her about my feelings. It was all we ever talked about.

_How are you feeling today, Eren? How have your week been, Eren? Bla-bla-bla._

I was so sick and tired of talking about my feelings. Fuck, I wasn't even sure I even know how I felt myself, how was I supposed to tell her?

I'd crashed down into the sofa in my less than tidy living room. My goal had been to sit and sulk, but I soon grew restless. Flipping up my laptop, I decided to look at some video clips. Don't tell me how, but instead I ended up searching after pictures of horses. They always made me laugh. Then I found this image. It was a side of a woman's face. She had long hair, and it looked like she wore a crown of some sort. Something about the picture bugged me. Why was it in along with funny pictures of horses?

I was still feeling a bit riled up, so to entertain myself I thought I should report the picture or something for being in the wrong category. But, when I clicked it, I found myself on the page of The Rose Hill Institution. Only 10 minutes ago I was close to swearing therapy off for good, and there I was, writing an e-mail to this guy called Erwin Smith, who supposedly run the place. Like, there was nothing to lose anyway, was there?

He soon wrote me back to confirm what I've just read, that the waiting list was very long. I got disappointed, and it took me another day to send him a reply. Somehow, I didn't want this chance to slip away so I gave him a short version about my situation, explaining me seeing visions of someone, and having kind-of-panic-attacks. Almost immediately, I got a reply. He'd told me a Dr. Hanji might be able to help me. After exchanging a few e-mails with this Dr. Hanji, I found the idea of finally using the money dad had left me on something like this would be great.

"And here I am, on my way to see her," I concluded.

Armin sat with his mouth slightly open. "Oh, both of them have really good qualifications. I read that Dr. Hanji only takes on cases she finds extra interesting. I'm sure she can help you too. "

I let out a small laugh, "Ha, yeah, she actually seemed really excited about me coming. She wrote her e-mails with all these emoticons and stuff." Excited might have been an understatement. I wasn't so sure how professional the use of smiley faces was, but I was willing to meet her anyway.

Armin seemed happy I told him, and I found even myself relaxing a bit more. I was so used to talking to professionals, I had almost forgotten that friends sometimes were even better to talk to.

When the tension left my body, I yawned. After talking for so much my eyelids felt heavy, and since we had some time left on the road, I allowed myself to drift off into sleep.

I woke when I felt the car started moving unevenly, taking in the curves of the smaller roads.  
While blinking slowly, I tried to make sense of where we were. I started to think that we were truly lost. But since it was Armin who was in charge of directing Mikasa which turn to take, I was sure we were on the right track after all. There were hardly any road signs in the area, and I found it a bit odd placing an institution out here. After some time Mikasa pulled onto an even smaller road. A dirt road so narrow, it would be impossible to even pass by an oncoming car.

It felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but giant trees surrounding us.

When the trees finally thinned out, a clearing opened up and in the far end, an enormous white house was set on a curved hill. Though _house_ was an understatement. In fact, it looked more like a mansion.

Mikasa pulled to a stop beside the few other parked vehicles, probably belonging to the staff. For a moment, I just sat there staring at the building without moving. I studied the large framed windows, which made up a large part of the exterior. It didn't look new exactly, but not very old either. I'd have to ask Armin later, since he was studying to be an architect.

A thrill suddenly went through me, and in the corner of my eye I saw movement in one of the windows of the top floor. It was like someone had watched me and then disappeared quickly. Scanning over the windows I was sure it was the top right one, so I stared at it for a few heavy seconds. My breath seemed to get caught in my throat, and for a moment I could both feel and hear my quickening heart. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I found myself unable to look away. In my mind I peeled off the layers of the house one by one to see the person within. Who was I looking for?

Confusion mingled with my sudden longing to go inside and search for that person. What was wrong with me?

My brain seemed to rewind itself and then forced me back to reality. Suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted this. It was like one of those moments, when life is about to turn in another direction, and you barely manage to hold on. If this was in a good way or not, I didn't know.

"Eren?" I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

With a jolt I turned around to see Mikasa and Armin eyeing me. Seeing their faces, I made up my mind. They had worn the same concerned expressions for a long time, and I just wanted them to be as they used to, and not worried whenever they saw me.

"Come on, let's go inside," I said and opened the car door.

I barely had the door open before I saw a brown-haired woman marching towards us with a broad, excited grin on her face.

Somehow I immediately knew who she was.

Stopping to a halt before, me she grabbed my hand before I could even make a sound. "You must be Eren Jaeger!" Excitement shone in her brown eyes, which seemed to be enlarged by her spectacles. I faltered where I stood as she grabbed my shoulder with her free hand. "I'm Doctor Hanji Zoe, but please call me Hanji!"

Still reeling over her eager approach, I finally managed to greet her back. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Hanji."

"It's Hanji! We're already friends, aren't we?" She beamed, and almost crushed my shoulder and hand. Then she realized I wasn't the only person present, and I was relieved when she let go of me.

"Oh! You must be Eren's friends!" She skipped over to where Mikasa and Armin stood hand fallen, mirroring my own surprised reaction.

I took the opportunity to glance up towards the window again, but saw nothing. Somehow I felt a bit…disappointed.

Dr. Hanji motioned us to follow her inside the house, and we hurriedly shuffled after her, trying to keep up with her pace.

"That explains all the emoticons," I murmured to Armin, and motioned towards the door where the slightly hyperactive woman had just disappeared in to.

"She seems a bit eccentric, but I'm sure she's professional," Armin said quietly, although he didn't look completely convinced.

Mikasa looked even more troubled and hesitant when we stepped through the door.

I was sure my life had just turned, and whether I liked it or not, I was already in for the ride.

* * *

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So, this was chapter one, and it's only the beginning! I have a few more chapters in the making, so please tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for reading so far! I'm really happy about the feedback ^_^

The first chapter was mostly about building up the background, and I hope this one will pick up the pace some more!

If you have any thoughts or questions, feel free to send me a PM or write me on tumblr (quietsan)!

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**Eren's curiosity leads him to find out that certain parts of Rose Hill are very clean, and also that dreams aren't always that bad...**

* * *

The sight that met us inside the house was not what I was expecting. Not at all. I'd thought the inside would match the expensive-looking exterior. Kind of like on those TV shows where rich people show off their houses, and in the moment they swing the door open you just gape at all the stuff they always have.

My mouth was open for an entirely different reason. A large, airy room welcomed us. Sunlight shone through the large windows and flickered across the few paintings hanging on the cream-white walls. The whiteness of the walls stood in stark contrast with the dark mahogany floor, and two curved staircases in the same wood lead upwards to the following floor.

As much as the simple interior surprised me, it also pleased me, and I found myself liking it immediately. Honestly I'd been a bit afraid that the place would be stuffed with expensive things for me to break with my clumsiness. So the simplicity of it all made me feel more at ease. Mikasa was quietly lingering by my side while Armin was ahead of us, humming to himself while seemingly taking in all the details of the room all at once.

"Mr. Jaeger?"

I swallowed a surprised intake of air, and turned to the left to look for the source of the person who called my name. A petite woman with reddish hair sat at a reception desk, and was looking at me expectantly with a kind smile on her face. I must have passed right by her on my way in.

Dr. Hanji, who already had her foot on the first set of stairs, let out a small yelp and whirled around, making the long white coat she was wearing flip behind her. With a few quick steps, she stood before me and clasped her hands together, looking very much like she wanted to explain something.

"Oh yes, Eren, you need to sign a few papers before you get your room. When you're finished, just go on upstairs and I'll be waiting for you." She beamed and then again started for the stairs but stopped, and slowly turned around to study Armin and Mikasa with a curious expression. With a hasty steps back, she grabbed onto a surprised Armin who didn't have any time to react, and added in a cheery tone, "Why don't the two of you come with me while Eren signs the papers, I have this experiment going that I must show you."

Before I could argue she had already started marching up the staircase with Armin in tow. Mikasa, who clearly didn't like the idea of leaving me alone, darted her troubled eyes between Armin and me. I gave her an apologetic shrug.

"Go. I need to fix the papers anyway."

After some hesitations, she seemed to agree with my decision, and most likely thought Armin was in more trouble than me since Hanji had managed to get a good grip around his shoulders, and was talking and gesturing wildly.

Seeing Mikasa leave, I again acknowledged the woman behind the reception desk. She was still smiling, and quietly waiting for me to approach. With a few measured steps, I stood by the counter, and with a hasty glance over her nameplate learned that she was Nurse P. Ral. As if on cue, she rose from the chair.

"Welcome to Rose Hill, Mr. Jaeger. I'm Nurse Ral, but do call me Petra." Her honey-colored eyes looked warm and gentle, so I almost didn't hesitate to offer her my hand. "Eren," I said when she grasped my hand with hers, her hold unexpectedly strong for her small frame. A thought pricked my mind, and after a moment's hesitation I couldn't resist but ask, "Doesn't anyone use their titles around here?"

She let out a small laugh, and seated herself again. "Oh, Dr. Hanji and I believe that using more informal names makes our guests more comfortable."

_Guests…that's one way to put it._

Then she added, "Though Dr. Smith insist we still have the correct titles on our nameplates."

"Oh, okay," I laughed nervously, not fully taking in the second part of what she said, "t-that's good." I regretted asking since it reminded me that I would soon be one of those _guests_ too. The pulse already thudding in my ears quickened, and I averted my eyes, not wanting to reveal my expression. Perspiration started form on my palms, and I fumbled to push my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

I heard her rummage around on the desk, and hum quietly to herself. I dared to steal a glance, and breathed a sigh of relief when I concluded that she wasn't going to make a fuss about my awkward reaction to a perfectly normal answer.

Even though hospitals, doctors and nurses where common factors in my life, I could never get used to the idea of actually belonging there. To be one of the crazy ones. I wasn't as messed up as some of the people I'd seen on my way in or out of therapy.

I just occasionally saw a person. Someone that didn't exist.

That constantly present feeling under my skin increased from its silent tingles to spread through my limbs, stabbing needles all over my body. Whenever I started to think, or even try to think about the stranger, the feeling would sweep over me like a flood, threatening to drag me into another wave of panic. This time was no different. I kneaded the fabric in my pockets together in my fists and winced inwardly at the familiar burn running through me. The sounds around me drowned to the throbbing of my own pulse, and I squeezed my eyes shut to brace myself for another episode.

But it never came.

Through shaky breaths I just felt the sensation still itself inside me, and somehow transform the stabbing pain into faint prickles, slowly trailing off my body until it ceased completely. The soft shuffling of papers brought me back to reality and I blinked my heavy eyelids in confusion. The nurse was still rummaging around her papers, and seemed oblivious to what had just happened.

What _had_ just happened?

An episode had never halted itself like that. Sometimes I managed to stop it before it could happen, by busying myself with something, but when it was already in force, it was impossible to stop it. Pulling my hands out of my pockets, my arms, and even my whole body felt lighter than it had for ages. Nevertheless, my head was clogged up with questions. How did that happen?

Only a moment must have passed, because the nurse continued talking like there had been no interruption.

"…but he'll be back on Friday."

I strained to get my attention back to her, but could barely manage to form a simple thought through the muck in my head. Blinking a few times, I noticed she was looking at me again.

"W-what?" I stuttered, and wiped my sticky hands on my jeans.

She still didn't take notice of how I was acting, and just smiled kindly at me.

"I was saying Dr. Smith will be back on Friday, and he told me let you know he was sorry he couldn't meet you today when you arrived."

I finally managed to take in what she was saying, and answered without sounding too much like the confused fool I was. "Oh, I hadn't really expected him to come and meet me anyway."

She lowered her eyes for a second, "Dr. Smith usually greets all the guests when they arrive here. He think it's important to know all of you personally, and wants you to know that." Her words were spoken with admiration, and it showed she had a lot of respect for her boss.

I guess they were really close around here. Maybe that's what happened when you work out in the middle of nowhere.

She flicked through her stacks of papers again and produced two sheets of papers before me.  
"This is a form of consent," she said. "You need to sign your name here, and here, so you will be checked in properly and so that you will get the care you are here for. The other is a form of secrecy." Her tone slipped from friendly to one more formal and serious when she in the following said, "We value our guests' identities here, so everyone who comes in here must sign this, as to promise to not reveal anything you see or hear in here to others on the outside."

My eyebrows crept together in a small frown when I saw the title _non-disclosable information_ typed out on top of the second paper.

What could be so important to keep secret that I needed to sign for it?

Not wanting to really dwell into that too much, I quickly scanned the papers and signed my name on the appointed lines, not really taking in the details, since the severity of the moment hit me. Guest, or whatever, I had just signed myself into a mental facility.

She gave me a gentle smile when I pushed the papers back to her, and added carefully "We hope that you will like it here, Eren."

"Y-yeah, thanks." I tried for a smile, but it probably didn't look very convincing.

Nurse Ral still didn't took notice of my shuffling around since was probably used to all kinds of crazy behavior, and just motioned for the stairs. "Go on ahead, Dr. Hanji will be waiting for you."

.

.

Relieved to be let out of the awkward situation, I climbed the first set of stairs and then I remembered I have no idea where Dr. Hanji's office was, or if I was was even supposed to go there in the first place. Not wanting to bother anyone for directions, I glanced upwards and with a sudden surge of curiosity, I found myself climbing all sets of stairs until I reached the top floor.

Standing on shaky legs, and short of breath, I eagerly examined my surroundings. The disappointment was clear when I realized the area was completely deserted. I had kind of hoped to found out who'd been spying on me from the window.

Maybe I'd gotten the layout mixed up? I frowned when I saw the forest-green curtains hanging by the window. Had I seen those before? The vivid color somehow sparked a memory within me, but I wasn't sure if it was from this place or not. While in the parking lot, my eyes had been fixed on the glass, so maybe I'd just forgotten about the curtains.

In the small area by the window was also a small two-seat sofa and a blank coffee-table. Scratch that. The table even looked _shiny_.

_Weird_.

Apart from the table, sofa, and curtains, the room was completely bare. There were no paintings, no flowers, magazines, or anything really. The creaky floor even echoed off the walls as I stepped off the stairway, sounding down the short hallway to my right. I tried to listen if I could hear anything else since the sounds echoed easily in the absence of interior. When I heard nothing at all I concluded that the floor probably was uninhabited. Though, I could have sworn I saw someone up here.

It had probably been the cleaning-lady.

I sank down in the surprisingly comfortable sofa with a sigh, while regarding the extremely polished table. There weren't even a speck of dust on it.

_Very weird. Why bother cleaning a floor when it wasn't even used?_

Soon I heard Dr. Hanjis voice echoing from the staircase. I could also hear Armin murmuring in his characteristically thinking voice. Hanji continued, her voice ecstatic, "Yes! He did! And then when I cut open his-"

She came to a stop when she saw me, and Armin and Mikasa nearly bumped into her. For a split-second she looked confused, and then her face shifted into a pleased grin, showing most of her teeth. She stomped over to look at me. "Oh, Eren, I see you already found your floor, did Petra tell you?"

I frowned. _My floor?_

"Uhm, no, I-I just wandered around a bit."

Her smile then broadened in an almost scary way, and abruptly, she strode forward to take my arm to drag me off the sofa. "Let me show you your room!"

Mikasa and Armin stood on the top of the stairs, looking as confused as I felt.

Passing a few doors Hanji produced a small, rustic key from her coat-pocket and clicked the door open. She motioned for me to step inside. For a moment I just stood there, taking in the room.

A small room, much in the same style as the rest of this floor, and equally bare laid before me. A narrow wooden-framed bed stood beside one wall, with a small bedside table decorated only by a simple lamp, serving as its companion. A closet and a desk also almost filled up the rest of the space. Another large window centered the wall by the desk, and what remained of the day's sunlight seemed to ease its way through to bathe the room in light.

A smile curved in my lips when I realized I would have morning light streaming through my window, to warm my face whenever I wake up. Living in the city among all the tall buildings made it difficult to even see the sun from any window.

A hand gently squeezed my shoulder and I was surprised to see that it was Hanji. "I'll let you get comfortable," she said quietly, and gave first Armin, and then Mikasa, a meaningful look.

"You don't need to worry too much about Eren, we'll take great care of him." She seemed to focus her words at Mikasa, who gave her the slightest of nods in return. Then Hanji seemed to snap back into her usual behavior when she instead clapped me on the back, the force of her hand making me take an involuntary step forward. "Right, Eren?" She grinned, and skipped through the door, pushing it closed with a nudge of her fingertip.

"Umm, sure," I said, a bit puzzled, to the now closed door. When I turned back to the room, I saw Mikasa had already seated herself on the bed and Armin on the chair at the nearby desk. Seeing his expression, and the futile attempt at withholding his laughter, I could feel myself crack up. Laughter bubbled out of my throat and filled the room along with Armin's own outburst.

I heaved myself down beside Mikasa, and leaned on my knees to catch my breath. Silent snickers could be heard from her as well, but she managed to keep it in check by hiding her face behind her scarf.

"Oh my god, at first I thought she would even make us stay and do experiments at us," Armin gasped and let out another laugh, "You should have heard her Eren, she even showed us her lab!"

I laughed and stroked a tear away from the corner of my eye. My body still felt light and the usual restless feeling under my skin hadn't returned, so I breathed a sigh of relief when I rested my back against the wall.

I looked at the two people who mattered the most to me in the world. The girl with quiet strength behind her words and actions, my sister. The boy with brilliance gifted to only a few, a person I'd always sworn to protect, my best friend. They had been with me throughout all this craziness, and they were still here. They didn't know how much that meant to me. Hopefully, I would learn to express my thoughts and feelings again so I would be able to tell them what I really felt. Though, I hoped, they already knew.

It was a genuine smile that stretched across my face when I asked, "What else did my crazy doctor say?"

.

.

We stayed in my room for hours and just talked and laughed together. It felt nice, and reminded me of old times, so it wasn't without difficultly when I followed them outside to wave them off when they had to leave.

Mikasa gave me a rib-breaking hug and promised to call and check up on me the next day. I even received an awkward hug from Armin. It was rare that we exchanged such acts of affection for each other, but I guess the moment called for it. I wasn't sure when I'd be seeing them the next time.

For a while I just stood there in the darkening evening, watching the lights of the car disappear in between the large trees. When I could no longer see them, I turned and went back into the house that would serve as my home from now on.

On my way to the stairs inside I heard people chatting, and the clattering of plates and the faint smell of what I thought was pizza, indicating that dinner was being served. The thought of melted cheese made my mouth water, and I stood weighing on the first step of the stairs, hesitating if I should search for a slice to take with me up to my room. The prospect of entering a room full of people by myself wasn't very tempting, and the day had left me weary from all new expressions, so I decided my bed, and hopefully some sleep, sounded like the best choice for the moment.

When I went through the narrow hallway close to my room, I again strained my ears after any indication that I had any neighbors. When I once again became aware of the almost pressing silence, I concluded that I really was alone on this floor. Not that I minded though. I shrugged to myself, and fumbled in my pocket for the key to unlock my room. As my hand rummaged around, my fingertips brushed over the other set of keys I wore, and I fished it out. With a click, I fastened the worn key to my room next to my more modern apartment key. As always, my eyes lingered on the pair of wings on my keychain.

The Wings of Freedom, my dad had called them.

A bitter taste swelled in my mouth, and I grimaced. I wasn't even sure why I even kept the thing in the first place, since seeing it every time pisses me off.

"Wings of Freedom, my ass," I muttered, and worked to get the door open to my room.

The one with freedom was my dad, because since the day he'd vanished from our lives we'd never heard a word from him again.

"Must be nice, not having to care," I breathed through gritted teeth. The old key seemed to feel my frustration, and decided to make my life difficult by taking a lot of time to fit into the keyhole. Finally it clicked, and I yanked the door open, and with a violent shove I banged it shut behind me. Since I had the floor to myself, I could do as much noise as I wanted. I didn't bother turning on the light and just sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands, leaning on my knees. Slowly the sudden flash of anger simmered away, and I sighed. I hated to get upset like that, especially over things that were out of my control.

If I felt tired before, I felt drained now. Not even bothering to undress myself, I crawled under the covers, and threw my head on the pillow. The warmth of both the clothes and the thick cover almost smothered me, but I didn't care. I just laid there, waiting for sleep to claim me. But thoughts about the day swam around in my head, and kept me from the sleep I longed for. All in all, it had been a good day. The staff seemed okay, despite my doctor being a slight weirdo, and the whole place felt…good. Homely, somehow. And best of all, no more attacks. What happened earlier had started like one, but had then just drifted off. A tiny glimmer of hope fluttered inside my chest. I might still be insane, but maybe there was a way to stop all of this?

I rubbed my face absently, and stared into the shadowy room. I hardly noticed when my eyelids fell shut, the darkness was just the same, and soon sleep pulled me under.

.

.

As through a haze I blinked slowly, letting my vision get accustomed the pooling light from the window. The moon shone clear tonight, and the coolness of the light seemed to ease its way through the glass to cover my exposed skin. Still, the chill of the air made me feel just right since the warmth behind me might have scorched me otherwise. I inched closer to the heat, basking in that special scent that drifted over and enveloped me, that made me feel safe, the scent that I loved.

Fingertips tenderly traced patterns on my bare arm, leaving lingering shivers underneath my skin. I felt myself melt underneath the touch, and I sank down even deeper into the comfortable mattress. These hands were usually rough, and relentless. The fingers, able to strongly grip the end of a blade, and do what must be done. Here, those hands were soft, and gentle.

Shallow breaths ghosted over the skin on my neck, making strands of my hair brush against the skin. The hand left my arm to slide around my waist and gently, I took it in mine and placed it above the steady beats of my heart. There were no place like this, where I felt as safe as I could ever feel. I wish we could stay here forever.

The hard, and yet so warm body pressed closer against my back. I knew his movements like the back of my hand, and as I knew he would, he soon snaked one leg over mine.

With my free hand I pulled up the thin woolen blanket over us, to make a barrier between us and the world, if only for a moment.

I nuzzled my pillow, and cracked my lips open to give voice to my thoughts, to my wishes. "Will there ever be a time when we can be together like this, not having to worry all the time. When we no longer have to fight to survive?"

I could feel his lips hovering in the crook of my neck, brushing over gently, and sending more shivers all the way down to my toes. I knew he wouldn't give me an answer, since he didn't have one to offer.

Maybe the fight would end tomorrow, maybe it never would. None of us knew.

I tried to turn around, to look at his face. The grip around me tightened, stopping my attempt, and the hand pressed down against my increased heartbeat. I strained against the hold, and a pleaded moan escaped my mouth.

"No," he breathed against my neck, his lips still lingering over my skin.

"Heich-"

He clipped me off with a light kiss in that spot he knew would silence me. My thoughts haltered for a second, and I relished in the sensation as he continued trailing his lips all over my neck. For a moment he stopped and whispered against my ear, "Don't call me that while we're here. Here, you just call me-"

.

.

With a gasp, I sat upright. My heart threatened to break out of my chest with its hammering, and my hand instinctively flew up to the spot on my neck, where I could still feel the skin tingle.

I tried to make sense of my surroundings, but my head kept spinning with confusion.

_What the hell was that?_

The world seemed to shift itself around me, and through squinted eyes, my vision slowly adjusted itself to the piercing light coming from the window_. _

_Where am I?_

**Knock, knock!**

My head jerked towards the door just a moment before it was pushed open.

All I could see was a blur of brown hair and a long white coat which rushed inside and stood beside my bed.

"Gooood morning, Eren! You haven't missed our appointment at ten have you?" Dr. Hanji's voice boomed, making me wince and cover my ears. She had an eager smile on her face, but I somehow couldn't comprehend what she was saying.

I instead took one more look around the room, and my sleep-clogged mind finally caught up with the present situation.

_Right. I was on Rose Hill_.

I blinked, and looked back at the brown-haired woman, who was looking at me with an expectant look on her face.

"Doctor Hanji? W-what time is it?"

"Just HANJI!" she pressed, and gestured with her hands as if to emphasize her words, "and the time is just before nine. I thought I should tell you breakfast is already being served downstairs."

The thought of food in my mouth at that exact moment, made my stomach turn. "Umm, I'm not much of a breakfast person," I explained with an effort of not looking too queasy.

She leaned down towards me and narrowed her eyes, like she was inspecting me. Pushing her glasses up a fraction, she made a low hum in her throat, and then produced a small notebook from her coat pocket where she scribbled something down.

My face must have looked even more confused, because then she said, "Oh, I like to keep notes," and offered one of those grins that almost made me feel uncomfortable.

"Umm…"

"You really should eat more Eren, to keep your stamina up. You will need it for the treatment," she stated, and plopped the notebook back into her pocket, looking content.

_Huh?_

She turned towards the door but before leaving, she hovered in the doorway. "Be sure to come down soon, before all the bread gets taken, we have this guest who just loves bread! Bread is good for you!"

It took me a moment to gather myself from the whirlwind that was my appointed doctor. I made an attempt to rub the sleep from my eyes while I dragged my legs from under the covers. The cool floor felt soothing to my overly warm feet. After pulling a hand through my slightly damp and messy hair, my fingers lingered on my neck. Just there, on the spot where he-.

I froze.

_He_?

As by instinct I knew who the man in my dream was. At first I didn't even dare to follow the train of thought for in fear of another attack, but when the usual stir under my skin never came I carefully let my mind drift back to the dream, and put it together with what I knew about the stranger.

What did he look like…? I knit my eyebrows hard together in concentration. I never saw his face, and even from behind, the image wasn't very clear. It was always blurred, skewed, in a way that made me so frustrated. And this time, I hadn't seen him at all. I'd heard him whispering and I had felt…his touch.

My pulse quickened, and warmth spread through me to pool in my face, and even my ears. I swallowed nervously.

_Why had I dreamed about something like that? Who was he to me?_

Still flustered, I heaved myself off the bed and trudged forward to my bag, which I had forgotten to unpack the night before. To keep my mind off the awkward dream, I pulled out a pair of black denim jeans and a deep-green long-sleeved t-shirt Mikasa bought me for my last birthday. Now it hang loose on my torso since I'd lost weight this last year. It told myself it didn't matter what I wore when I was here, and I usually didn't care what I wore either for that matter. Whatever was comfortable fit me just nicely. While busying myself with changing the rest of my clothes, I almost managed to push the image of him away. Though snaps of it kept invading my mind, making me feel all awkward again.

I paused in the middle of sticking one leg into my jeans. I remembered the dream. All of it. Of course, since it was a dream it was a bit rough on the edges, but all in all I remembered it.

_Why had this been different?_

I dragged the pants over my narrow hips and hastily buttoned them up. Why did I have to remember something so… embarrassing? I grumbled under my breath and dragged a hand through my hair. A cold shower would have been nice, but I decided I would try and follow Dr. Hanji's advice on trying to get some food in my stomach.

Though, was it really necessary to eat breakfast before therapy?

.

.

I actually managed to stuff down some eggs and a piece of toast, and afterwards I placed myself in the waiting room outside Dr. Hanji's office. The room looked like most waiting rooms do, a few chairs, some paintings that's supposed to cheer you up, a few green plants -which in my opinion didn't seem to get a lot of care since they were kind of withered and brown- and a small table with a few magazines piled on top.

Since I had visited a number of these kinds of rooms during the last year, I knew the paintings wouldn't cheer me up, so I decided to check out the magazines. To my surprise I found a copy of one of my favorite comics, the one about superheroes in an alternate universe. Even though I'd already read the volume I picked it up and began flipping through the pages.

When I heard the door across the room crack open, I reluctantly put the comic away. Still half-wrapped up in the story, I stood up and without really looking, started walking towards the door.

A breeze filled with a scent I somehow found familiar, but couldn't place, flowed towards me and I finally broke out of my reverie to look up.

My eyes met narrowed grey, set in a dark glare. A man, slightly shorter than myself, with black hair parted down close to the middle, stepped out of the office. His scowl, which was enhanced by his thin eyebrows, was in phase with the rest of his face, completely still and unreadable. As in slow-motion I watched him walk towards me, his steps light and fluent, like his body was under full control. Wearing a black tank top and black loose pants, and with his heavily tattooed arms hanging loosely by his sides, his impression was even more menacing. Still, I couldn't keep my eyes off his, and when he was about to pass by me, his steely gaze followed mine for a what felt like several seconds, then flicked them back forward as he passed me. I faltered in my step, for as he passed me, the scent hit me. Clean, fresh, with a hint of that smell I couldn't place. For a moment, I stopped breathing, and my mind wrapped around itself to explain why I found that smell familiar.

What I didn't realize was that I'd stopped in the middle of the room, and Dr. Hanji was standing in the doorway.

"Eren!" she exclaimed, "You did eat something right?"

"Um, yeah," I said absently, my brain still in the middle of processing the scent. I slowly crossed the room, feeling a bit unsteady as I went.

"Good, good!" she said, and patted me on the back as I passed her, and I swore I heard her let out a pleased sigh before she closed the door behind us.

Why she was so pleased about me eating breakfast was beyond me.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the feedback, it always makes me happy to know what you think!

Just a heads up, there will be some angst in this chapter. It is also on the shorter side, but I promise to make it up to you in the next chapter, which is one I'm looking forward to very much! I might put up a teaser on tumblr (quietsan) during the weekend...

And as always, feel free to message me if there is anything you're wondering about, I love to hear from you!

* * *

Summary: After meeting the dark-haired stranger in the waiting room Eren is left in a state of total confusion, but his feelings rapidly change after telling Doctor Hanji about what happened that day. The day when it all started.

* * *

I was still reeling from my encounter in the waiting room when I flopped down on the chair inside Dr. Hanji's office. She was shuffling around her desk so I took the opportunity to use more of my senses to place the faint scent still lingering in the room. Expanding my lungs to the point that they already begin to hurt, I let the air drift through my nose and parted lips. The scent trailed over my tongue, and sent a slow buzz as it seemed to ease its way into every cell of my body. The sweetness it brought totally engulfed me, and I was vaguely aware of my eyes drifting shut. Fresh, with a hint of citrus. Laundry detergent? However, there were still that something in there that pricked the back of my mind. And I couldn't, for the life of me, pinpoint what it was. I could almost make out the taste on my-

"Eren?"

My eyes flew open to see Hanji quietly observing me. During my detour into my vocabulary of smells she must have quit whatever she had been doing, and seated herself in her chair across the desk from where I sat. That knowing grin of hers made me think she had been watching me for quite some time now. For trying to convince myself I wasn't totally insane, with my current behavior, I was doing a good job of looking like it.

"I- um- I just…"

My brain seemed to have given up on me, and I just sat there stuttering like an idiot. I was about to blurt something, probably sounding smart as ever, when she leaned forward on the desk, put her elbows down, and fixed me with a pointed look.

"Is there something on your mind?" Her tone was unusually even, but the glimmer in her eyes told me she was very curious about what was going on inside my head.

I swallowed hard, and couldn't keep holding her intense stare, because in that moment I felt like her probing eyes could see straight through me and read my bizarre thoughts.

How could I explain the fact that I was sitting wondering about how another patient of hers smelled? I squirmed uneasily in my seat at the thought. Why was I anyway? There wasn't an explanation really. I wracked my brain for an answer.

Maybe it was because I was… surprised?

With the black clothes and the tattoos covering his arms, he had looked dangerous, and his glare would've probably burned holes in my skull if he had looked at me longer. He was basically a person you did not want to meet in a dark alley at night. You kind of expect people like that to smell something like cigarettes, sweat and old beer, or whatever that made your nose twitch.

Instead he had smelled…good. So good, the intensity of it had made me stop in the middle of the room. And the fact that something seemingly small as that had managed to penetrate my bubble made me curious. The constant degree of numbness I had felt since I started having my attacks had eased since I got here, and I was starting to wonder about why it had.

And there was something about the way how he had looked, or more like scowled, at me, that made my skin crawl. And admittedly, in a not completely bad way.

His steely grey eyes had been fixed on me for longer than you are supposed to look at someone. I had been unable to look away, and the few seconds that the encounter had lasted had stretched out to what felt like hours.

Why did he look at me like that?

I found myself opening my mouth before I had fully formed the sentence in my head.

"I-I was just wondering who that guy was. The one who just exited your room." I regarded Dr. Hanji carefully while fiddling with the sleeves of my green sweater. And then added, "He glared at me like I had done something horrible."

At that she slammed her hands down on the desk, making the papers rustle, and let out a roar of laughter. The sudden outburst made me jump, and I watched her with wide eyes as she tried to control her flapping mouth.

"Oh, honey, that's just the way his face looks," she explained, still gurgling with laughter, and wiped her nose with her coat sleeve.

"'The way his face looks'?" I echoed.

She didn't seem to hear my confused mumbling, and ended her laughter with a sigh that almost sounded frustrated. "But I'm afraid I can't reveal his identity. It's part of the rules."

Damn. I had somehow hoped her eagerness would mean she would at least spill his name to me, but there went my luck.

My disappointment must have been apparent, because then her eyes widened and I could practically see the light bulb go off above her head.

"Oh," she added with a wide grin, "But if you really want to find out, you should ask him yourself."

I gaped at her. Like I was going to-

"I promise he won't bite. Much." She frowned slightly at the last word.

I held my hands up in defeat. "What... No, I mean, I was just wondering, it's not important. Really!" I blurted. I could practically feel myself turn pink when she kept grinning at me.

"Okey-dokey then!" she cheered and again dove into the pile of papers on her desk, while I distracted myself with viewing the room I was in.

The walls were painted in soft yellow, and the same mahogany wood covered the floor. Apart from the cluttered desk, I thought it was quite cozy. There was a small sitting area close to the window, with two comfortable-looking armchairs.

Nothing out of the ordinary there.

I let my gaze wander over the various pictures and paintings on the walls. A few of them were anatomical sketches, and the details of them made me cringe. It looked like twisted forms of humans, a few missing their skin so that their muscles were showing.

Gross.

The idea of my doctor as the mad scientist didn't seem so far-fetched anymore. I recalled Armin telling me about her experiments, and I shuddered at the thought. At least she wasn't doing research on humans. I hoped.

The brown-haired woman let out a small yelp when she found what she apparently had been looking for. The notebook already placed in her chest pocket. She began flipping through it with a speedy haste, and didn't take notice of my silent attempts to get her attention.

I was starting to feel restless, and was anxious to know what she had planned us to do for today. Since she was very different from all other therapists, and people in general too, that I had met, I concluded that her way of treatment would be something else as well.

Not sure how to get the conversation going again, I opted for something simple. "I like your office Doc- I mean Hanji!"

She tore herself from the notebook to look at me with a pleased grin. "Oh, thank you, Eren. My assistant helped me tidy it up yesterday," she beamed.

I viewed the mess of papers and other things on the desk, and wondered if this was cleaned up, how did it looked like when it was really messy?

Hanji snapped the notebook shut, and that gave me the impression she was finally finished with whatever she had been doing. She leaned forward in her chair, managing again to crumple up some papers when she placed her elbows there.

"Say, Eren. Aside from analyzing the e-mails you sent me, and doing a few observations of my own, I would like to hear about your experiences directly from you. It would make my data about you complete."

The way she said data made me think that maybe she did human experiments after all.

I gave her a small nod. I had done this a thousand times at least.

"Where should I start?"

I spent the next half-hour being bombarded with questions about my childhood, friends and where I've gone to school. I told her about the different jobs I've had after high school, and how I, due to my attacks, had to quit every one of them then how I finally found myself sitting alone in my apartment and not knowing what to do with my situation. The details she wanted were extensive, and no other therapist had ever been so thorough. Some questions I found odd, but she convinced me they were important to make her do a just assessment about my case and further treatment.

She asked if I'd lived in the city my whole life, about the circumstances when Mikasa moved in with us and also about my father's disappearance. The latter made me shift uncomfortably in my seat, and the usual irritation surrounding the subject of my father shot through me. I didn't want or need another senseless outburst right now.

Hanji urged me to continue, and when she explained her reasons to me, and the importance of it, they made sense and made me re-evaluate my opinion of my doctor. She was a bit strange, but she was good at what she did.

When I was almost certain she wouldn't ask me any more strange questions, like my preference for pizza or chinese, I allowed myself to relax. Then, _the_ question came.

"Eren, I'm about to breach the subject about why you contacted us in the first place. Is that alright with you?"

I tensed immediately, but gave her a small nod.

"So, from what I read in your e-mails, talking about this person you keep seeing is very difficult for you, so I want us to proceed slowly regarding this. Whenever you want me to stop asking, just say so."

I was staring at my hands but when she uttered the words, I swallowed, and turned my head up to look at her. Her words and look of complete sincerity took me aback for a moment.

"You believe I can actually see him?" I asked quietly.

"I do," she confirmed, "My... experience in the field have left me with a broad perspective on things, and I've learned to regard every detail, because they are often the key to solving the mystery, so to say."

"So you don't think I have some weird diagnosis like sciz- schizof-" I admit, I had googled my symptoms more than once.

"Schizophrenia? No. Absolutely not." Her answer left no room for misinterpretations, and she sounded absolutely convinced.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm a doctor aren't I?" she said with a wink.

"But all the other doctors have claimed all kinds of diagnoses," I pressed.

At that she let out another cackling laugh that made me jump again. "Oh, sorry about that, Eren." She wiped away a tear that had escaped her eye. "It's just that doctors are so silly with their diagnoses."

"But you just called yourself a doctor." I snapped my mouth shut just as the words left my mouth, but she just laughed.

"I did, didn't I?"

I couldn't help but grin in return. She might be crazy, but I liked her.

She glanced over to her computer, and after reading a few lines, her expression sobered when she once again looked at me. My instincts told me to brace myself for whatever was coming, and in the next moment I learned that I had been right.

"I would like to ask you some questions concerning this person, and when you think it's enough you need to tell me. Is that okay?"

I wanted to say no. I really did. But seeing the woman before me made me rethink what I wanted to blurt out. She had been taking me seriously ever since the first time I e-mailed her, and that said a lot about her character. I found myself actually trusting her. So after some hesitation, I gave her a small nod.

"Can you tell me how often your attacks usually appear? When did you have your last one?"

Unlike the other questions, which I could answer without thinking, these bored into me like sharp vines, and twisted my insides together in a withering mess. Sweat started to form on my forehead, and the air seemed to get stuck in my throat when I tried to push the words out. I took a deep breath, and through clenched teeth I could taste the still lingering sweet scent on my tongue. It whirled in my mind, and for a heartbeat of clarity I managed to grab onto my quickly escalating thoughts, and composed myself to be able to answer her questions. With another soothing intake of air I opened my mouth to speak.

"I never know how often they will come. Sometimes it's five times a day, and if I'm lucky, five times a week." I drew another shaky breath, and let the scent still my whirling emotions. "Yesterday morning was the last time it happened. So, today have been good to me so far." As I said the words, I recalled what had happened when I was signing the papers the day before.

"Actually…" I drifted off, thinking about how the initial attack had halted itself, and left me feeling more at ease than in a long time. "Actually…I've felt better since I came here. I can think about …him… without risking a breakdown." I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling bare after my statement.

She leaned back in the chair, and got a pondering look in her eyes that made me wonder what was going on inside her head. Several heavy seconds passed, then she picked up her notebook again to flick her eyes over something written there. After closing it again, she took a deep breath.

"Is it alright if you tell me about when you saw the person for the first time?"

My throat went dry, and I knotted my hands together in my lap. The memory of that time was hazy, and for reasons I hadn't mentioned to Hanji, but it felt unavoidable to keep the truth of what had happened from her if I wanted a chance to get better.

It was time to talk about what happened that day.

.

.

Darkness enveloped me, and far away, I became aware of someone calling my name. As if passing through a haze, it came out as a muffled cry and I could just make out the desperate tone it bear. I struggled to move, to see, but something was keeping me in place, making my limbs feel numb and lifeless.

"Do you hear me? Eren!"

I could hear it more clearly now. The person was screaming, his voice loud and frantic.

In my muddled mind, I thought something sounded off about that voice. Wasn't it supposed to be calm and collected? Not shouting in desperation like this.

"Wake up! You need to get out!"

Then, my senses whirled back into my body. Sharp pain shot through me. Everywhere. My head throbbed violently, and the numbness I had felt in my arms and legs was replaced with a sensation of them being crushed and broken beyond repair. I clenched my face tight, and felt something sticky and wet trickle down my features. Thick smoke stung in my nose, and made me cough which in turn made my chest contract painfully.

I tried to pry my eyes open to make sense of what was happening around me. In the moment before I opened them, an image flashed before me. Something so awful I let out a guttural scream. Even though my eyes now were wide open, I refused to believe what I was seeing.

I saw…myself.

And the image would burn itself into my mind forever.

The lower part of my body was stuck inside something skinlike and fleshy, which seemed to steam and sizzle with heat.

It was like I was flowing outside my own body, and seeing the blood streaked over the face that was mine, and the stillness of its features, I knew I was going to die.

Though, strangely enough, that wasn't the thing that upset me. The thing that tore my heart apart was the man holding me.

No, holding was not enough to describe it. The man clung to me. Clung to me like he held onto the last fragments of my life, while his whole body shook violently.

His face was hidden from where I was watching, but from the look of his slumped shoulders, and his head of tangled dark hair hanging over me, the word that crossed my mind was… broken.

He was broken.

With trembling fingers he stroked my face while whispering my name, over and over again. From where I watched, it was like I both heard and felt his caresses from deep inside, echoing in a distant part in my mind.

"Eren, please, don't be-" he cut himself off as a sob escaped his throat, and it developed into a violent cry of pure anguish.

Suddenly I was thrown back into my body. My real body. The image ripped itself away from my eyes and reality dawned on me. I was laying on my side, with my face mashed into the rough surface of the asphalt road. A weak scream of my own eased itself through my bruised throat when I saw what was before me.

A wreckage of a car. Mom's car.

I willed my limbs to move against the crushing pain coursing through me, but they stayed limp on the ground. I watched as thick smoke rose from the top of the upturned car, and in my horror I saw flames lick their way over the frame of the car.

"Eren," a quiet voice wheezed, and I squinted my eyes to make out from where it was coming from.

She was inside the car, hanging from the ceiling still fastened in her seatbelt. Her face looked pale and lifeless, just like mine had been in the sudden flash I had just moments ago. Panic surged through me, and with a pushed effort, I rolled over on my stomach and tried to wriggle myself closer to her. Every part of my body screamed against the motion, but I couldn't stop trying, otherwise she would-

"Eren, no… get away," she pleaded with her brown eyes strained open.

"No, I'm going to get you out mom," I gasped, and again tried to move. It was no use.

"Listen to me!" Her voice was ragged, and she pinched her face together, like it hurt too much to speak. "Get away from here, save yourself."

The flames grew larger, and when I saw dribbles of gasoline trickling down on the ground I knew the inevitable was about to happen.

"Mom," I cried out, hot tears streaming down my face.

The last thing I saw was a faint smile on her face. Then, all there were was fire.

.

.

"After that, I was in a hospital for two months."

The words just kept spilling out of my mouth. I had opened the hatch, and now I couldn't halt them.

"They didn't find a single broken bone in my body. I should have been able to move, I could have saved her- I-"

"Eren"

My voiced thoughts was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. Hanji stood looking at me with a concerned expression on her face.

"I think that's enough for today."

I looked at her absently and nodded. The numb sensation had crawled itself back under my skin, and I felt completely devoid of emotion.

I was vaguely aware of the pressure leaving my shoulder, and the rustle of her coat let me know she had seated herself back in her chair. I dragged my gaze up to look at her.

She paused for a moment and regarded me with a careful look. "I'm glad you wanted to tell me in person, Eren, and I can tell it wasn't easy on you doing so, but it really helps me understand your situation."

I nodded. There were no pity in her eyes, only something resembling determination. All of the responses I could have gotten, and had braced myself for, hadn't come. And for that I was thankful. I didn't need people pitying me, or giving me hugs I didn't want to receive in the first place.

I slowly realized I was being awfully quiet and subdued, but I couldn't find any words to truly express how I felt.

"Thank you…Hanji," I said at last, and despite my tone lacking enthusiasm, I think she understood me.

.

.

Afterwards I stumbled up the stairs and when straight to bed. The rest of the day I spent hauled up in there without doing much at all. I was surprised Mikasa hadn't called me yet, but it was probably been for the best. I didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment.

I stashed my phone away on the nightstand and threw an arm over my face. My first session with Hanji had left me tired to the bone, and throughout the day I had found myself falling asleep several times. Only when the clock neared six I was finally starting to feel like a person again.

It had kind of felt good to tell her everything from the start, and not sit around waiting for her to drag it out of me during the many sessions we most likely had in front of us.

I wondered what she had planned for my treatment, and what would make it different from every other kind of therapy I had gone through. Seeing who she was, I bet it would be quite different.

My phone chimed and I reached out to grab it. It was a text from Armin, asking how I was doing. I punched him a short reply, hastily describing my session with Hanji and that the breakfast buffet had a lot to offer, even for me who didn't even like breakfast. I hovered with my thumb over the letters when a thought crossed my mind.

Should I tell him about the strange guy I met downstairs this morning? I shook my head at the thought. It wasn't even like we actually met. We didn't talk, and I didn't even know his name. The tattooed stranger had so easily crept under my skin it made me question myself why he had.

Just because he smelled good?

I decided it wouldn't be necessary to tell Armin after all. Maybe if I could get the chance to talk to the strange guy…

I halted my train of thought by scrambling out of bed, and stumbling over to the closet.

Why would I be interested in talking to him?

'Hi, I'm Eren, I thought you smelled good the other day, what's your name?'

I said the words in a mocked tone while watching myself in the mirror on the closet door. The only possible outcome of that situation would be me walking away with a black eye.

Or worse.

I shuddered. My stomach made a loud rumble, and glancing at my phone I realized it was dinnertime. I gave my hair a tug with my hand and decided it looked acceptable.

It was only after I was outside the door that I grasped that it was the first time in ages that I had looked at myself in the mirror without being afraid of what I might see.

.

.

Dinner, which also turned out to be more of a buffet, was served in the dining room. I hadn't bothered changing my clothes, since I thought no one would care what I wore anyway, but when I entered the enormous room I felt that I should have. It wasn't so much about the people scattered around the many tables, they were dressed casually like I was, but the room itself.

The high ceiling made it almost feel like a large hall, or ballroom, with both lanterns glowing softly along the walls, and lit candles on the white-clothed tables. As I approached the long table with the various dishes, both the delicious smell and the view made my mouth water.

My trance was broken by a loud gasp, and I saw a brown-haired girl dash up to the buffet table and began shuffling bread on her plate.

Hadn't Hanji said something about a guest who ate all the bread? This must be her then.

When I was almost certain she couldn't load any more baguettes on top of the others, I carefully approached to take a plate of my own. Though, clearly, she wasn't finished yet. When I was about to take a crisp-looking croissant, she snatched it away and stuffed it into her mouth.

I stared at her in surprise. She looked back at me with a confused expression in her eyes, like it hadn't been something out of the ordinary. I started to turn away from her when she tore the croissant in half with a large bite, and chewed hastily. I was about to dismiss her as a real nutcase when she spoke, her voice cheerful.

"You must be new here, I'm Sasha." She placed what was left of the croissant tenderly on top of her bread pile, and gave me her hand.

I hesitated a moment before shaking it. "Eren. And yeah, I got here yesterday."

She grinned. "Then you should come and sit with us." She gestured at a table close by where two other girls were seated. After giving the girl in front of me another inspection I decided she didn't look too much of a threat, _like some other guest I had seen_, so I gave her a nod in agreement.

By the time I sat my plate down on the table the three girls where in deep conversation. A petite blonde girl was arguing with the one named Sasha, but when she noticed me she smiled broadly, showing pearly-white teeth.

"So you're the one Sasha stole from this time? You'll have to excuse her, she's quite relentless when it comes to food." She laughed, and earned a frown from Sasha who had a new piece of bread in her mouth.

The tanned, freckled girl beside her eyed me closely, and then threw an arm around the blonde girl's shoulders.

"Hey Krista," she smirked at her, leaning close, "you're always so nice to the newbies."

A small blush crept into the blonde girl's features, and she turned her green eyes on the much taller girl beside her. "Ymir," she chastised, "don't be like that."

At that, the one apparently called Ymir chuckled, but when she flicked her eyes on me, there was a hint of a predatory glint in them.

I shifted nervously in my seat, not sure where to look. What had I been thinking sitting down with a bunch of people I didn't know? Mikasa's words rang in my head.

_You don't know any of those people there, it's not safe. _

Maybe she was right. I pushed my hands between my thighs and the chair, refusing to meet her eyes again. The relaxing feeling of the house had made me momentarily forget I was in a mental facility. What were the reasons these people were here? For all that I know, they could be totally insane.

"Eren, that was your name right?"

It was the freckled girl who broke my darkening thoughts, and I dragged my eyes up to study her. The strange glint in her eyes was gone, and she seemed more relaxed. I nodded in response to her question.

"So, Eren, no need to sit there all jumpy and shit, we're not gonna bite. Though you never know about this one," she said and ruffled the blonde's hair.

Krista tugged her hand away with a small smile, and I could see she didn't let go of it when she lowered it under the table.

Oh.

I now understood why the freckled girl had glared at me earlier.

"What Ymir is trying to say is that you can hang out with us if you want to. Being here is a strange thing at first, but it gets better," Krista beamed at me.

"Yeah, you totally can," Sasha agreed, and the stared down on her now empty plate. Her shoulders sank immediately, and the motion elicited a laugh from the two other girls.

"You already filled your quota for the day, Sasha?" Ymir laughed and took a large bit of her own bread bun.

Sasha literally started drooling at the action, but her seemingly bad habit was soon interrupted by Krista shoving a bun in her mouth.

I even joined in at the laughter that followed, thinking that maybe these people wasn't so bad after all.

After dinner I felt quite relaxed as I made my way through the large mansion, so when a sudden chill ran down my spine I halted in my steps just before the large glass doors heading out back.

I glanced around to try and find the source of my unease, but the room was empty and quiet apart from faint laughter carried down the hallway from the remaining guests in the dining room.

Still, there was something there that made my pulse quicken, and the muscles in my shoulders stiffened in preparation. I took a tentative step towards the glass doors, and strained my eyes to see outside into the blackness. Since it was so dark, I couldn't see a single thing. Surely there wouldn't be someone out there watching me?

Though, I probably hadn't seen all the guests yet, so there might still be some weirdos around. My eyebrows knitted together as I thought the idea was fully possible.

I shuddered, and decided I would go out there tomorrow instead and inspect the place. I wasn't going to go out there now and get scared shitless if there actually was someone standing there.

With a final look I turned away and headed up the nearby stairs, although I could have sworn I felt eyes following my every step.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: It's Friday, and time for another update! I hope this chapter will make up for the previous lack of **Levi**, because from now on, we will be learning more about the strange guy Eren met in the waiting room. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, I'm very excited about it myself!

I want to thank you for the feedback, it makes me very happy to hear from you! If you're curious about coming chapters, be sure to check my tumblr (quietsan), where I post snippets from upcoming content.

* * *

**Summary: **When Hanji tells Eren about her idea of therapy, he learns that it would be quite useful to have a more flexible figure.

* * *

When I came around the next morning I felt light pooling on my face, and I peeled my eyes open to find the sun shining through the window. I let my eyes drift shut again, and just laid there for a few minutes, seeping in the warm rays.

With my head on the plush pillow and the sun on my face, I couldn't ask for a better way to start the morning. I could never have moments like this in my own apartment since the surrounding buildings hid the sun from me, and made me feel like a trapped animal.

Though my contentment came to an abrupt halt when my mind inevitably drifted back to the day before.

I slowly rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. All the things I had told Hanji.

What did she think of me now? Even though she hadn't given much of a response, I was still worried about what she thought of me. Did she even believe me?

I remembered the reactions of my earlier therapists when I had finally agreed to tell them what happened on the day of the accident. Shock, pity, and even doubt, were a few of the expressions they had offered me. Their awkward attempts to touch or hug me, and display affection that wasn't in their place to show at all, sickened me. That was why I was so reluctant to tell anyone. I hadn't asked for their consolation. I didn't want to see their fake feelings plastered all over their faces when I told I had watched my mom d-…

I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my quickening pulse. My throat suddenly felt thick, and the air I desperately tried to pull down into my lungs seemed to get caught on the way. The sun suddenly felt like it existed to mock me with its cheery light, and I rolled over to face the wall, pulling my knees up to my stomach. A dull ache gnawed in my chest, and I just laid there, wishing it would all just go away.

But you rarely get what you wish for.

There was another reason to why I didn't want to tell anyone what had happened that day.

This.

Talking about it left me bare, even raw, afterwards. It ripped open the scars into fresh wounds all over again, and the dread it brought tore at the bits of sanity I believed I had left. Sometimes it took days to be able to think about my mom without wanting tear my ability to feel out of my body, and throw it away. Just to not be able to feel, ever again.

I tugged the blanket up over my head, wanting to shield myself from reality, if only for a moment.

While I was curled up inside my cocoon of misery, something stirred inside me. A memory, making me halt my rapidly down-spiraling thoughts.

The dream. I had been laying just like this. Although I hadn't been alone.

I slowly pulled the image back into my mind.

The moonlit room.

The thin blanket covering our curled up bodies.

I took a shaky breath, and absently brushed the soft fabric of the blanket now separating me from the world. It wasn't the same blanket, but the action had. I had pulled it over the both of us to make a barrier between us and everything I was afraid of. But it wasn't the blanket that had created the sense of protection I had experienced.

It had been him. The stranger.

How I knew it had been him in the dream, I wasn't sure. It was a feeling that resonated from a deeper level in my mind, from instinct, perhaps.

The feeling of his touch. His warmth. His whole presence had made me feel…safe. With his hand pressed to my chest he had been able to calm my heart, and at the same time, almost making it burst out of my chest. At the thought, my throat went dry, and I forcibly swallowed. The reason for my hammering heart hadn't been fear.

As I focused on the image of us together, the knot in my stomach lessened, and the muscles in my throat relaxed, allowing me to breathe again, though the air continued to come out in small puffs.

Yesterday I had discarded the dream as an anomaly, as something weird that hadn't meant anything at all. Before, all his presence brought was anguish. I hadn't seen what the dream truly meant, and now, with my emotions all over the place, it started to make sense.

My breath once again caught in my throat when I thought about the one other time I had seen him, in the one fractured scene I had been allowed to remember. The way he had held the broken body, which I knew had been mine, in his arms.

I had seen what my last moments had done to him. The hold of his own body, and reactions, had spoken wide with what I had meant to him.

I dragged my trembling hand over my chest, and put it over the steady beats of my heart. I could almost feel the ghost of his hand over mine. At that, my heart rate picked up, and I pulled the blanket from my heated face. The last lingering feeling of dread in my stomach left me in a rush as something finally clicked inside me.

He… he had _cared_ about me. And I had…

I suddenly shoved the rest of the blanket off me, and fumbled to get myself seated. My head spun with jumbled thoughts, and I drew a hand through my hair.

What had I just been thinking? Was I seriously considering that a person of my imagination was caring about me? Had my delusions gone that far?

I tried to make sense of my thoughts, and despite thinking that I was slowly losing it this time, I couldn't help but keep the thought that what I had dreamt felt real.

_Too real._

My gaze wandered around the room while I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get my thoughts under control, until I locked eyes with myself in the mirror on the closet.

I slowly got to my feet, and moved closer to get a better look. I let my finger trail down the length of the glass and watched the spot behind me, as if I for once wished him to appear.

"I want to know who you are," I breathed close to the mirror, and drew small patterns in the vapor it created.

I understood then that my reasons for knowing his identity was no longer only to give me an explanation, and perhaps some peace of mind, but also for reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to give voice to just yet.

.

.

After putting on some clothes my stomach rumbled as if questioning why it hadn't received any food yet, so I complied by heading downstairs.

On my way I noticed there were very few people around.

Like zero.

Not that I had seen a lot of people here to begin with. The place was huge, and when the waiting list was years-long, you kind of thought that the house would be packed with patients. Woops. I mean _guests_.

But no.

Apart from Sasha, Krista and Ymir, I had only seen a few others down in the dining room, and the halls, and other areas, were always empty.

They probably liked to keep to themselves, like I did, and it wasn't as if we were there to socialize.

When I passed by the large glass doors by the bottom of the stairs I paused in my stride, and stole a glance of the outside. I had completely forgotten what had happened, or more correctly not happened, in the same spot yesterday. Still, I hadn't imagined the uneasy feeling I had gotten, so I needed to investigate.

It was with difficulty that I dragged myself from the doors and towards the breakfast buffet. First, I was going to please my stomach. Then, my curiosity.

When I reached the dining room I was just in time to see an elderly woman start packing the remaining food away. She was wearing a white apron and a wide, crooked grin when I dashed up to the table, just as she was about to wrap up the remaining sandwiches.

"In a hurry, eh?" she grumbled while still sounding amused.

I stood there, fiddling with my hands and offered her a careful smile. "I guess I slept in today."

I reached, and tentatively took an egg-and-ham sandwich from the plate she was holding, and she in turn preceded to hand me a box of chocolate-favored milk.

It was with a surprised frown I took it from her, and just stared at the object in my hand.

"Just something to wash it down with, the bread might be a bit dry. Be sure to be here earlier next time, we always pack up by 11," she muttered, and turned to continue with collecting the almost empty plates.

I just stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, and then regained the ability to talk. "Oh, sure. Thanks," I mumbled, my fingers still curled around the small box.

When outside the room, a huge grin spread over my face. It had been years since I'd had chocolate milk, and I could barely wait to taste the deliciousness on my tongue. I practically bounced the remaining way to the glass doors, feeling much like a little kid.

The breeze of the, apparently not so early, October morning chilled my face when I pushed the doors open, stripping away the last traces of sleep in my eyes. I filled my lungs deep, and with a quick glance, took in my surroundings.

Just outside the doors was a narrow porch, which I crossed with only a few steps to stand by the railing. To my left, a few steps led down onto a stone-paved path which in turn lead to a generous patio, filled with several sitting areas and tables, further down into the garden.

After a more or less thorough scan of the back area, I found it hard to believe that someone could have been standing out there without me seeing it through the glass. The darkness could never cover up the distance between the glass and the railing, and if it in fact had, I might have been staring right at the person without knowing it.

I tried to dismiss the disturbing thought as a trick of my imagination, a side-effect from being riled up from therapy. The idea wasn't too unlikely, because it wasn't exactly the first time I had been imagining things.

When I decided to drop the subject, I let my eyes wander back to view the garden. On the lawn next to the path, was a man clad in loose, green overalls, clearing away dead leaves from the perfectly grown grass. He flung his rake in such a manner that led me to believe he wasn't at all pleased with his task, and the sour expression he was wearing seemed to confirm my beliefs.

With a growl, my stomach then reminded me that it still hadn't received any food, so I balanced the wrapped sandwich on the railing, and preceded to pop the plastic straw into the carton, and took a small sip. I let out a muffled moan as the taste of molten chocolate spread through my mouth, waking my taste buds with its sweetness.

Sugar, cocoa and milk, what could be more perfect?

"You like chocolate?"

With a startled jump I almost choked on a mouthful of milk, and a few dribbles escaped my mouth before I could stop them. I hastily wiped them away and turned to see Petra watch me with an almost horrified expression in her eyes.

"Oh, Eren, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she mumbled while rummaging around in her waist pocket to offer me a napkin, "I thought you heard me come outside."

With a wave of my hand I turned the napkin down, and swallowed to get the remainder of milk down. "It's okay," I insisted, and offered a small smile, "I guess I was caught up in the moment, huh?"

She let out a laugh, then put the napkin back into her pocket. "Yes, you were looking quite pleased. Is it one of your favorites?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "my mom used to buy me these when I was-" I swallowed the rest of the words that was about to spill out of my mouth. I better not think about her more at the moment if I wanted to keep functioning.

Petra continued on as if I hadn't stopped midsentence. "I can see why she did, you really seem to like them," she said, and placed her hands on the railing beside me.

I wasn't eager to elaborate on the subject, so to make myself busy I put the milk down and started unwrapping the sandwich. Thankfully, she seemed to pick up on that my silence meant I wasn't going to offer anymore, and instead she said, "It's good to see you outside, the air here can make wonders for you."

Her quick, but distant, look into the garden told me she wasn't only talking about me.

"So, if you're curious, you should definitely explore the back area. Sometimes during my breaks I take a walk out there, it's really soothing."

I rolled the dry bread around in my mouth before giving her an agreeing nod, as I didn't want to get choked twice in the same morning.

"Hey Petra!"

We both turned in the direction of the man collecting the leaves. He was now leaning on the rake with a teasing grin on his face. I noticed Petra stiffen beside me, and glancing sideways, I could see her usual kind smile had faded into something resembling a sneer.

"Yes, Oluo?"

I thought I could hear a sigh hidden behind her cheery tone, and in the way she folded her arms made me think she was annoyed. I hadn't thought the nurse was able to make such an expression.

His grin widened, and he pulled off one of his gloves to drag the hand through his ashy-blonde hair. While still grinning he started, "I was thinking-"

She clipped him off instantly, "The answer is still no, and we are not having a private discussion during work hours."

Either he was truly an idiot, or he was grasping for what he could get, when he added, "'A private discussion' you say…" He let his bare hand slide down the length of the rake, and sauntered towards the pile of leaves he had been gathering. "I'm looking forward to-"

"And don't speak while you-"

"Ouch!" He yelped in surprise, and held a hand over his mouth.

"…walk," she sighed, and shook her head while turning her attention back to me. "Don't mind him. He does that."

"Does what?" I asked, glancing back at the man who was now wiping his sleeve over his mouth.

"Bites his tongue. He's so preoccupied trying to be someone he's not, so he loses control of his actions, especially while in motion and talking at the same time," she explained with an exasperated tone.

"Oh," I said, a frown curving my brows.

What a weirdo.

Her smile returned an instant later, and she pushed away from the railing. "My break is over now so I need to head back. It was nice to see you outside Eren, and be sure to explore the area if you're curious."

In fact, I was curious, so after finishing my food I followed her advice and went down the stairs into the garden. While moving through the patio, the tongue-biting gardener gave me sneering look, and then continued working with his rake, clearly not satisfied with the outcome of things.

To say the garden was big was an understatement. As I kept on walking all I saw was a never ending continuation of bushes and trees in various sizes filling the sides of the path, all clad in shades of yellow and red. Here and there I came across winding paths leading left and right, but in fear of getting lost, I kept on following the main one leading further and further away from the house.

After some time the trees abruptly got a whole lot bigger, and I realized the garden overlapped with the surrounding forest. The enormous trees that filled the area resembled the ones Mikasa, Armin and me had seen on the drive here.

I walked up to one particularly large, and gnarled tree, and strained my neck back to see how far up it reached, but found it impossible to estimate its height. I let my hand trail over the rough bark as I walked around it to find out it was partially hollow.

For the second time that day, my inner kid rejoiced, and I stepped inside to explore my discovery. The hollow was generous enough that I could stand, and even spin around with my arms outstretched. Which I did, with a stupid grin all over my face.

I then sank down to happily rest on the leaf-littered floor. With my head leaned back on the rough wood, I let the earthy smell of the forest drift into my nose, and lull me into a state close to sleep. I hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time, and even the events in the previous days seemed to fade as my consciousness kept slipping further and further away.

A choked snort found its way out of my mouth when a loud chime of my phone rose from my slumber. With fumbling hands I fished it out of my pocket, and saw Mikasa's picture light the screen, and with a swipe of my thumb I had it unlocked.

_sorry 4 not calling, busy at work_

The words made a twinge of guilt form in my stomach since I hadn't made an effort to call either, but I hadn't exactly been very talkative yesterday. At the same time, seeing her clipped words formed a smile on my face. It made me feel like the distance between us wasn't the hundred+ miles it actually was.

I had somehow thought I would be relieved to be out of reach of her sometimes overly protective nature, but now, I found myself slightly missing her.  
My eyes then lingered on the next line of text she had sent me.

_you ok?_

The question made me think about what to answer. For once I wanted to offer her an honest answer, because now, I thought I could.

Despite people staring holes in my head and the creepy taste my doctor had for artwork, the fact remained that I hadn't had a single attack in two days, and for that I was willing to go through almost anything.

_I'm good, really good. Talk soon?_

Since I knew Mikasas texting habits was almost as poor as her habit of calling, I didn't sit around for her to reply. I had another session with Hanji in about an hour, and I badly wanted to take a shower, because in truth, it had been a couple of days since my last one, and I didn't want to risk being known as the smelly patient, even though it would be fitting at the moment.

I waved a goodbye to my new favorite spot, promising to return soon.

On my way back to the house, my eye caught on a blonde head of hair through the trees to my right, and I immediately thought it was Krista. Being in a good mood, I decided to make an effort to be at least a bit sociable, so I moved over and was about to greet her when she turned around to face me.

It wasn't Krista.

And the girl, apparently not Krista, did not look pleased. She was seated on a wooden bench, her posture straight and tense. The piercing look of her icy-blue eyes made me stop in my tracks, and a wave of unease swept over me when I saw her hands tighten in her lap.

I swallowed, and searched for a few words that would lessen the suddenly tense atmosphere.

"What's up?"

I would later mentally kick myself for that line.

She made no attempt to answer me, and her face stayed in the state close to a sneer, while she regarded me. Her stare was so cold it made my skin crawl, and I found myself backing away from the scene without saying another word. When I felt my feet make contact with the path again I spun on my heel, and rushed back to the house.

When I was back into what felt like safety, I glanced over my shoulder to see if she had made an attempt to follow me. I could have sworn she had been close to getting up a give me a beating, like I had been invading her space or something.

When I was certain she was nowhere in sight, I dropped down into a crouch, and tried to get my strained breathing under control. Why was everyone glaring at me? Was there something on my face?

When I was back in my room, I felt the need to shower had risen to new heights with my involuntarily forced run to the house, so I quickly collected a change of clothes and crossed the hall into the bathroom.

The spacious area was as immaculate as it had been the day I came here. A large bathtub, or perhaps a Jacuzzi would be a better fitting name for the size of it, was placed by the frosted glass window. As much as I wanted to try it out, there wasn't any time. I placed my pile of clothes on the porcelain sink, its whiteness almost hurting my eyes, as it was polished blank almost like a mirror.

"Much like the table down the hall," I muttered, while I preceded to get undressed.

I guess the cleaning lady _really_ did like her job.

The warm, soothing water felt amazing streaming down my tense muscles, and I reveled in the feeling until I remembered I didn't have all the time in the world.

As I had forgotten to bring soap and shampoo myself, I eyed the various, expensive-looking bottles standing on the metallic shelf.

They had all commodities here didn't they?

Well, I didn't mind taking some if they were offering. When I popped the lid open to the body-wash, my nostrils flared at the vaguely familiar scent.

Citrusy, clean.

My memory immediately flashed back to the dark-haired man I had passed by outside Hanji's office yesterday.

So this was _the_ scent.

I had thought it was his perfume or something that had made him smell the way he had, but I guess it wasn't, not if they put this in all the bathrooms.

I took another sniff after pouring some into my hand. It did smell fantastic.

After deciding it would be fine to use it, I continued coating myself with the silky cream, and soon, the scent mingled with the increasing amount of steam to slowly fill the room.

After finishing up in the shower I reached for a towel, hanging off the heated towel rail on the wall. I wrapped myself into the warm, fluffy material, and allowed myself a moment to dry before putting my clothes on.

Who said showers couldn't do wonders?

With a glance at my phone I realized I would be late if I didn't get a move on. I shuffled into a pair of black jeans and deep green knit sweater. With a flick of my wrist, I threw the towel back onto the dryer, and practically flew out of the room.

.

.

"You want me to do what…?"

Hanji flipped her notebook shut, and put it back in its usual place in the safety of her chest pocket. She then leaned forward to fix me with a pointed look.

She still hadn't brought up the subject about what had been discussed during our last session, only that she thought it would be good for me with a breather before the next session. It had put a weight off my shoulders, and even though I was thankful to not talk about heavy stuff this time, I still wasn't sure I liked what she thought I should be doing instead.

When I saw that slightly creepy grin enter her features, I knew she was being serious.

"It would be a perfect way for you to learn to control your body, so you're able to relax when you suspect an attack might be coming on."

I slouched back in my seat, and shook my head in protest, "I have already tried breathing techniques, it doesn't work."

"Oh, but you see, yoga is very different," she grinned, and for an instant I thought she winked at me.

_Yoga? _

_Seriously?_

I groaned, and shot her a questioning look. Of all things, this was about what I had been expecting the least. I thought she might come up with some exotic drug for me to try out, even one she had created herself.

"Yoga is a great way to manage both your body, and breathing, and we just happen to have excellent teaching methods here."

I had a hard time picturing myself in a yoga-class, and the idea of me trying to twist and bend like some rubber-man wasn't tempting, since I was about as flexible as a refrigerator. Still, I found myself giving her an agreeing nod, because I was willing to even try weird training to get some sort of control of myself. That was why I was here, wasn't it?

Hanji sat back in her chair with a pleased sigh. "It starts tomorrow at 7 a.m.," she mused, and I groaned out load, for as little as I was a breakfast person, I was even less an early morning person.

.

.

Still, the next morning just before the appointed time, I pulled my door shut and lumbered downstairs. Since I hadn't expected to do any form of physical activity while being here, I hadn't brought any workout clothes, so I had thrown on a loose green t-shirt and grey sweatpants I usually wore as comfy clothes while watching TV.

My legs felt like they had been stuffed with lead or something, and I barely had the energy to lift my feet off the floor to keep them from just gliding forward. How I was supposed to do exercise was beyond me.

The quiet hallways were just barely lit by the approaching morning light, as even the sun hadn't risen yet, and I couldn't really blame it. It was too early to even consider being awake. And yet, there I was.

I neither saw nor heard anyone on my way down to entrance hall, but it was possible I just missed them because my consciousness was still upstairs in my bed. Reaching the hall, I glanced over at the nurses' station to find it empty. Even Petra wasn't up yet.

I grumbled while walking over to it, my goal set on the door on the right.

Whoever decided to put a yoga class this early in the morning must be out of their mind. I let out a jaw-popping yawn, and twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

I fumbled my way down another staircase to an even darker basement, which housed yet another corridor.

The builders sure had a wild imagination, and I could just picture Armin trying to convince me there was a valid reason to why there needed to be so many empty spaces to walk through. I sure as hell couldn't see the point.

The adjacent rooms offered some light to drift through, and I stumbled forward in my search of the right location.

Hanji had told me it was the last room on the left. I half-expected to hear some of that Indian, or whatever it was, music I had heard yoga-people listened to. And I even more, I expected to hear people waiting for the class to start. But the silence down there was almost deafening. That, and in combination with the shadowy hallway, made me finally awake from my near sleep-walking state, and a slightly eerie feeling took hold of me.

The hallway trailed on longer than I thought it would, and when I finally reached the end I thought I might have been mistaken after all. There still weren't any people around.

Maybe I had gotten the time wrong?

The door before me was slightly open, and I tentatively grabbed hold onto the handle. If I had come all this way, I might as well see what was in here. With a nudge it silently glided open.

I froze.

In soft rays of the morning light, positioned on a mat, was the dark-haired guy with the death-glare. With his legs folded neatly together, and eyes and features smoothed into a passive state he looked miles away in thought.

_Shit_.

I must be in the wrong room after all.

I stood there for a second, my heart hammering in my chest, and hoped he hadn't heard me so I could escape with being noticed. I inched backwards, and was about to turn when a voice jerked my attention back to the room.

"Hey, are you looking for the bathroom or something?"

For a second I didn't take in the meaning of what he said, as I just listened to his voice. It laid placed low in his throat, and the tone it bore left no room for misinterpretation. The sound seemed to reverberate inside me, making me shiver as it traveled through my body. He had his grey eyes open only a fraction, but their intensity made me suddenly wish I was still up in the safety of my bed. I swallowed, then realized he had actually asked a question.

"Wha- no-no!" I stuttered, "No, I…"

No words could to be enough to cover up my embarrassment of finding myself openly staring at him, and I just stood there hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

Something shifted in his eyes, and he cocked his head to the side. "You what? Spit it out, brat."

_Brat? _

Where had that come from?

His glare seemed to strip me of my ability to form words, and in the absence of pockets I wasn't sure where to put my trembling hands, so I clasped them together in front of me in an attempt to disguise my discomfort. I rolled the words around in my mouth before managing to push them out.

"Umm, Doctor Hanji told me there would be a yoga-class…"

I might had been imagining things, but I swore I could see one of his thinly shaped eyebrows twitch, and he muttered something I could only hear fractions out off.

"…shitty glasses…"

I strained my ears, and when I still couldn't hear what he was saying I unconsciously leaned forward, "Sorry, what did you-"

He rose in one fluid motion, breaking me off completely. The way he moved reminded me of a dancer, his movements light, and graceful.

"Nothing," he said dismissively, and seemed to consider something while he looked at me.

I shifted uncomfortably under his stare, but found myself unable to either move away, or say something. If he could look at me, then I might as well look back.

He was wearing the same black tank top from when I first saw him, or perhaps he just had many of them, and loose black pants, similar to my own, though his didn't have as many holes as mine.

With his hands folded over his chest, I took the opportunity to look at the ink covering them. They were in black and grey, but I couldn't quite make out what they resembled, and I cursed the lack of light in the room. While squinting I thought I could make out some sort of scales…

"Are going to stand there all day? You sure you don't need to take a shit?"

I snapped back from my reverie, and realized I had been ogling him pretty intensely.

"What? No! I- …I just... Sorry, I thought this was the place where I was supposed to go," I mumbled, and started to back away from the door, "I'm going back to ask Doctor Han-"

The deep exhale that followed silenced me, and I saw him shift over to his right leg, with his arms still folded over his chest. He was wearing the same passive, almost bored, expression when he said, "There is no yoga-class here brat, but if you're not too noisy, I can teach you a few things."

I blinked slowly, then understood what he was saying, and gestured wildly, "Oh, no need to. I don't want to disturb you or anything."

"Too late for that," he said, and let go of his arms to stand in the middle of the mat, "Just get in here, the mats hang by your left," he gestured, and was about to sit down when he added in the same flat voice, "and shut the door, I can't bother with any more of you little shits today."

I guess he really liked the word shit.

I lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, not sure if I really should get into a disclosed room with a person I didn't even knew. But despite it being a possibly bad decision, I pulled the door closed behind me.

I couldn't help but feel curious. Who would have guessed this guy was doing yoga? He more looked like the type to do kick-boxing, or something equally violent.

Though I noted, after grabbing a mat and going towards him, that he was quite leanly built, and with the elegance he had with his movements, he had probably been doing yoga for years.

He was still being quiet, and had fallen back into his Buddha pose, or whatever it was called, when I placed my own mat a few meters away. I wasn't sure how much space he wanted, but it would be helpful to actually see what he was doing.

I found it strange that he hadn't turned on the light, or even lit a candle, to make the room feel less gloomy, but I guessed it was part of his personality. Which was so to say, not very bright so far.

I flopped down onto the mat, and then became aware of what I had totally failed to recognize when I stepped into the room.

His scent.

Now that I had used the same shower gel myself, it kind of masked his, but through the citrus, were still that other scent coming off him. I took a discreet sniff, as it really started to bother me that I couldn't make out what it was. Then, his eyes were on me.

"Take your socks off," he ordered, making me halt my next attempt at figuring out his bodily odor, and I scrambled to do as he asked. I should at least try and focus on what was before me, and not fantasizing about perfumes.

I didn't really want to show him my naked feet, but I wasn't going to argue. With the way he talked, I had the impression he was used to people doing as he asked.

And he was the professional in the room after all.

He sat perfectly still with his eyes closed when he asked, "Have you done yoga before?"

"No," I admitted, while trying to drag one foot over my other bent knee in an attempt to mimic his position.

"Then we should start with the basics," he said in a low, but not totally flat tone.

For the following ten minutes I did my best to follow his movements, but I was soon grunting with both frustration and exhaustion. I was starting to think the poses he made me do were anything but basic, and he was doing it on purpose, in some sadistic attempt to embarrass me. I got the sudden urge to never give him what he wanted, so I refused to give in by complaining.

While I was struggling with keeping various body parts in check, I kept glancing over at him now and then, despite him telling me to focus on my breathing. It all looked so effortless to him. Whatever pose he took, his body complied with the movement without showing any kind of strain. My own, on the other hand, protested even when I tried to bend down to touch the floor, the back of my knees burning.

"When was the last time you worked out?"

I jerked my head towards him, and found him standing straight up on the mat, watching me with one corner of his mouth turned a fraction upwards.

Slowly, I allowed my back to straighten so that I was standing as well. The tug of his lips was the most positive expression I had seen him wear so far, and I bet it was at my expense. I still wasn't going to give him what I thought he wanted.

I could see he was waiting for me to give him an answer, so it was with a shrug I said, "Not too long ago."

I didn't elaborate on that 'not too long ago' meant a few years.

"I find that hard to believe," he said, one eyebrow arched at me.

I pursed my lips in annoyance. Even though he had a point, he didn't need to be an asshole about it. It was like he could see straight through me, it was starting to piss me off.

"Have anyone ever told you that you're rude?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

His only reaction was to tilt his head sideways, and stretch his neck. The corner of his mouth was still tensed into a barely-there smirk.

"Have anyone told you that you're a bad liar, brat?" he countered.

"Stop calling me brat already!" I snapped, and fixed him with a glare.

"But you are a brat. What are you, like 16?" he continued, and tilted his head to the other side, still watching me.

My eyes widened, and I held my breath to halt the words threating to spill out of my mouth.

I had been told before I looked young for my age, but it wasn't _that_ bad.

"I'm 19."

"See?"

His smirk grew as he uttered the word, amusement now apparent in his low voice.

I groaned inwardly. What was his problem?

How old was _he_ anyway? If you took away all the bad-guy attributes, he didn't look much older than myself.

I mirrored his stance by folding my arms over my chest, and raised one eyebrow.

"And what are you? Like 30?" I said, hoping to insult him.

"Not until December," he said, and lifted his head up to stand in the exact same way I was trying to imitate.

My breath caught in my throat, and I absently felt my hands drop to my sides.

"Really? You don't look close to 30," I heard myself saying, and felt my cheeks turn warm. I hurriedly shifted away from him, pretending to try on another pose.

"Surely, you meant that in the way I think you did."

How the hell was I supposed to know how he had interpreted that?

Not wanting to show my still flushed face I just manage a weird _umm_ in response.

He didn't respond, and shortly thereafter I heard him move towards me. "Enough slacking off," he said, making me jerk back since he was suddenly next to me, "you need to learn some solid poses to start with."

I was barely aware of the world around us when I stared down at him. The distance between us was so small that I could reach out a hand to touch him.

Not that I wanted to, of course. He was an asshole.

The sweet scent that rolled off him flowed at me in waves, making me sway slightly in place, and my eyelids grew heavy. The moment stretched, just like it had in the waiting-room, and my mind was filled with only the sight of him. I found myself absently wondering about my own reaction when he apparently was such a douchebag. It all came to an abrupt stop when he uttered his next words.

"So first off, stand on all fours."

I snapped my eyes wide in confusion. "W-what?"

A small sigh escaped him, and the breath reached to tickle my bare arms. "Are you sleeping? I asked you to get down on all fours."

"Why?"

He blinked slowly, and lifted a hand to drag it through his hair. "Because I'm going to give you a spanking? No. It's the starting position for a pose I want you to learn."

I could feel the color of shame burn on my cheeks, and I practically threw myself down on the floor to escape his gaze. Admittedly, my thoughts hadn't been so far off from what he had said.

Who knew what he liked to do in his free time?

"Place your hands below your shoulders, and your knees hip-width," he instructed, and I could hear him move around me, and risking a glance I could see his bare feet just on my right side. I was kind of surprised not to see his toenails painted black.

"Now," he continued, interrupting my thoughts, "curl your toes inward, then push back with your hands, so your hips incline backwards."

What?!

Was I supposed to stand with my ass in the air? This was so not my lucky day.

I tried to follow his instructions, but clearly he wasn't satisfied with my attempts because suddenly I could feel a firm push on my shoulder blades, and that was the moment my brain checked out.

His warm hands pushed into the strained muscles of my back, and despite the thin fabric separating my skin from his, the contact burned through me. I fought for air while standing there, trying not to let my spinning emotions pour out of me. His hands seemed to melt into me, to be a part of me. What was…?

As quickly as he had put them there, they vanished, and left me in a breathless, trembling state. Though seconds later, when I dared to open my eyes again, I became aware of two facts.

One.

I was standing like my ass was on display.

Two.

My t-shirt had managed to glide down over my head, which left my back and stomach bare.

And one extra point. So, three facts.

I swore that the blush on my face had reached to cover my entire body.

"Oh, not bad," he said with barely contained amusement.

This was _not_ happening.

I came tumbling down on the mat, and hurried to cover myself up.

He continued in the same tone "No stamina left? You know, downward-facing dog is a pose where your body can collect energy. It's not supposed to wear you out."

Downward _what_?

Had he been playing with me all along?

I then decided I'd had enough embarrassment for one morning, no for the entire year in fact, so I hurriedly stood up, and then remembered in an effort to redeem my humiliation, that I could tower over him.

But the half-smile that met me made my own grin vanish immediately. I plucked the mat off the floor, and turned to marsh towards the door. I threw the mat in the direction of the others, and when I was just about to open the door, he spoke.

"Hey, what's your name?"

I paused in the doorway and considered whether I should answer or not. If he ever decided to give me an apology he should at least call me by my actual name, and not brat.

"Eren," I snapped, and gave him one last glare before heading out the door. He could close his fucking door himself if he wanted to.

Behind me I could hear his words drift up to me as I sped down the hallway, "See you around, _Eren_."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- It's still Friday where I am, so I'm happy to be on time!  
Thank you again for the feedback! Its comments like that, and knowing that people are reading my little fic that keeps me going ^_^

I love hearing from you, so please tell me what you think, and it's also very useful for improving my writing ^_^ If you're curious on future chapters, be sure to check out my tumblr (quietsan).

* * *

Summary: When Levi met Eren, he didn't expect himself to become a stalker, but he simply couldn't stay away from the boy with the remarkable eyes.

* * *

_Levi_

The door slid closed before me, and I was left alone in the quiet room. I was absently aware of the warmth on my back where I stood, listening to the fading footsteps sounding from the hallway. From the way my figure cast a shadow on the floor before me, I concluded the sun must have finally risen, without me noticing it. My attention had been claimed by someone else.

An amused smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I kept listening, and I made an effort to not let it get any further than a smirk. My control had been lousy that morning, since I had barely been able to keep my face straight throughout our little session, and that was a rare thing for me. And the one to blame was the brat.

My eyes drifted over to the mat he had haphazardly thrown to the side before barging out the door, and even though the action should have annoyed me, it only fueled my amusement. When a bang sounded overhead I realized he had already left the basement.

He sure was in a hurry, wasn't he?

My stomach tightened with suppressed laughter, and when a snort managed to escape my mouth, I immediately snapped it shut to force it back down.

"Shitty brat," I muttered, and folded my legs back down on the mat again, fully focused on reclaiming my lost control.

While sitting on bent knees, I curved my upper body forward, and fell down into a Child's pose. With my hands resting above my head, and my forehead on the soft mat, I let my eyes drift closed and forced my attention to my breathing.

In - _pause_ _for two heartbeats_ - and out.

The air kept filling and leaving my lungs in the exact pattern that was close to second nature to me, but my mind refused to clear itself as had been the goal. Instead, images of a sloppy, brown-haired kid invaded me.

The way he had been awkwardly hovering in the doorway, on his way to escape before I could notice. Little did he know, I knew how to watch without anyone ever realizing, and he wasn't any exception.

Or… perhaps he was.

**FLASHBACK**

With my fingertips curled over the rim of the cup, I took a long sip of the somewhat bitter liquid. Gunpowder tea, four-eyes had called it, and given me a wink when I received the package. She had a habit of bringing me different types of tea whenever she was away on business, and I'd be lying if I said I was complaining. This time it had been a strong, somewhat smoky, green tea from China. The leaves had been rolled into small pellets, hence the name. If she intended a pun with bringing me this specific variety, I wasn't offering to fall for it.

I stood leaning against the armrest of the leather sofa, cup still my hand, lazily glancing over the inked markings covering my arms. The jagged scales had started to fade here and there, leaving the creature climbing up my left arm looking less vivid than when it was newly made. The memory fleeted back into me, as it always did. The sharp point poking its way across my skin, branding me with the ink I now saw as a waypoint in my life. Since then I had promised myself to change.

The sound of a car pulling up on the graveled driveway jerked me away from my retrospection, and I was immediately on alert. After placing the cup back onto its saucer, I stood to edge closer to the window, my intention to discover who it might be. There were no deliveries scheduled, and I hadn't been notified of any new patients coming in, so the fact that an unfamiliar vehicle came to a stop in the parking lot made my nerves stand on end.

Despite it being a cheap model, the sun glistened in the red paintwork of the Toyota, so whoever the owner was, it was clear the car was a valuable possession. The license plate indicated it was registered in the area, but that on the other hand could easily be forged.

I kept my eyes trained on the car, but when no one emerged, I inched closer to the window to get a better angle to be able to see through the reflective glass of the vehicle.

That's when I saw him.

A boy, sitting transfixed with his head moving slowly from side to side, like he was inspecting the house. Strands of tousled, dark hair framed his face and partly covered his eyes, which clearly kept traveling over the building.

When he still didn't make a move to get out of the car, suspicion grew in my stomach, my eyes narrowing into thin slits as I regarded the situation.

What was he searching for?

I had barely finished the thought when he snapped his head in my direction, and I flew back behind the curtain.

"Fuck," I said, muttering at my own stupidity, and hovered behind the thick fabric that served as my momentary cover.

Had he been able to see me?

The hasty movement had taken me off completely off guard, and the fact that it had, made a twinge of unease creep over me. Even though I was out here, I mustn't forget to not let my guard down.

With a careful step to my left, I glanced down in the gap between the curtain and the window, just in time to see Four-eyes bolt up to the kid, who'd barely gotten out of the car, and eagerly shake his hand.

The tension built up in my shoulders left me as I let out a deep breath, one I hadn't even been aware I had been holding, as the scene outside informed me that the kid was just another patient.

As I continued to watch her nearly assault the kid with her excitement, I folded my arms and slowly shook my head in astonishment.

She and her manhandling.

Apparently he wasn't too put off, because when she let go of him to greet the two other kids who'd also appeared out of the car, he didn't run off. He once glanced up at where I stood perfectly still and mostly covered by the curtain. As long as I didn't move, he wouldn't be able to see me.

What was up with the kid? Did he have x-ray vision or what?

Though, even how impossible that sounded, that would explain why Four-eyes had practically thrown herself at him. He probably had some disgusting mutation, or something that she found fascinating.

The thought made me shudder.

Another freak in the house. What a joy.

To my relief the staring contest ended when the Four-eyes abruptly shot off towards the house, with the three kids struggling to keep up. I took that opportunity to inspect the details of the unknown trio.

First, the mutant.

Now that he was out in the light, I saw that his hair was a dark brown, loosely reminding me of coffee-beans. His clothes were loose and casual, hanging off his thin, about 5'7" long body. In the distance he looked quite pale, and with the cowering hunch of his back, he looked like he'd snap easily as a twig. I had a hard time estimating his age, but my guess was that he at least had to be in high school.

Next, I looked at the blonde…boy. Did his mom cut his hair or what? The grin the blonde was sporting was quite a difference to the gloomy expression of the girl who followed last. Even from where I stood, I could practically sense suspicion radiate off her. She kept glancing around, and my thought was that she wanted to drag the other two back with her in the car, and get out hell out of there.

Admittedly, the specifics about the last two didn't came out as detailed as I would have liked, since my attention kept slipping back to the kid in the front. He and the blonde was having some kind of discussion, and it somewhat bothered me that I couldn't make out their lip movements in the distance, because I still hadn't taken them off my suspicion-list.

When they crossed the threshold to the house, I decided it was time to retreat to my room. I would know soon enough who they were.

It had surely not been more than ten minutes when I heard footsteps echoing in the staircase.  
At once I put my book down, and inched with silent steps towards the door. My muscles were tight with tension as I flattened myself at the wall beside the door to listen in the crack between the door and the doorframe. The heavy footsteps came to a halt, and the only thing heard was the sound of my own heart, its beats slow and steady in my chest.

Only two persons were allowed up here, not counting myself, and I knew their footsteps like the back of my hand_._ And while the options to who it could be were limited, this clearly wasn't one of them.

Though, I had a strong guess to whom it might be.

The intruder had stopped right on top of the stairs, just before the spot where the floor squeaked like a dying animal. Even though I hated that fucking floorboard, it was as good as any burglar alarm.

After trampling down on said spot, the person trudged forward, and a soft sigh was followed by the sound of creaking leather, meaning that my sofa was having company.

My eyebrows which naturally placed themselves in what some called a frown, sometimes had the habit of twitching when I was annoyed, and to say that they were trembling now was an understatement. I took a deep breath to steady myself. He better not make a mess in there, or I would find him and shove my foot so high up his ass he'd wished he'd never come here.

As I plotted my oncoming revenge, more footsteps sounded, and this time I knew their owner perfectly well, and her voice rang out in the constant cheery tone,

_Oh, Eren, I see you already found your floor?_

_His_…floor?

If I was annoyed before, that had been nothing compared to the hot anger now curling my fingers into tight fists. I once again tried to reign in myself with the use of a deep breath, but it took all of my self-control to keep myself from throwing the door open. I wanted explain that this was not this Erir, Eru, Eric? –What-the-fuck his name was- floor. It was mine, and she was aware of that.

But even as much as I wanted to interrupt their nice little chit-chat, I didn't want my presence known so I stayed put, somewhat trying to contain my growing anger.

Apparently this was his floor, because seconds later I heard him stumble after Four-eyes, along with two more individuals whose steps were a lot more controlled.

So, my guess had been correct. Nosy brat. What was he up to?

_I'll let you get comfortable. _The door next to mine clicked shut after Four-eyes said her parting words, and I leaned back onto the wall, uncurling my clenched fists. Fortunately, she didn't decide to come barging on my door, but I was sure she knew that wouldn't be very wise at the moment. I would seek her out at a better time and find out what the hell she was thinking.

I pushed away from the wall, and absently shook my hands to relieve them from the tension they had collected from being balled up. The motion had come like a reflex, and the thought of it sneaking up on me like that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I thought I had changed, and even so, sometimes I found myself falling back into old patterns. It was with a wry smile curving my lips I sank back down onto my chair.

It's just what they say, old habits die hard.

Wild outbursts of laughter sounded from next door, making me wince, and curse whoever built the house for making so damn thin walls. Weren't walls supposed to keep stuff out?

I sighed heavily, and picked up my book again, intent on letting the words shut out the goddamned brats.

Well, this day had certainly turned into shit.

.

.

I had planned to seek out Four-eyes the following day just before noon, when most of the inhabitants was either outside, or huddling in their rooms. So when I heard her come stomping down to disturb me during my morning routine, my already sour mood worsened. She asked me to stop by her office at a quarter to ten, and though I wasn't happy with the appointed time I complied. The sooner I got it over with, the better.

I'd had a terrible night with hardly any sleep at all, since I had constantly been woken by muffled sleep talk, and various questionable noises coming through the wall.

Noisy brat.

Luckily, he would be out of there before the day was over.

When I later arrived at her office, twenty to ten, it was with the full intention of coming in early to interrupt her morning ritual, as she had mine. A few well-chosen words laid just on the tip of my tongue, but they had to wait when I took in the chaos that was her desk.

Among the papers, candy wrappers, and various junk, stood the cups we had used yesterday, still half-filled, and the scent of old coffee made my stomach turn. The woman herself sat perched in her usual chair, her face plastered in the notebook she always carried with her. The ecstatic grin she wore was more than a little disturbing, and when she dabbed a finger in her mouth to flip another page I let out a disgusted groan which made her snap back from whatever fantasy she had been having.

Despite my desire to comment on the state of the room, I had more important things to discuss. And I made no effort to sugar-coat my words.

"What the fuck is this about you letting one of your freaks stay on my floor?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, and offered her a look I knew could make grown men run off crying to their mommies. She, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice, and only inclined her head to the side in a confused manner.

"What do you mean by 'freaks'?

While I knew for a fact that she was highly intelligent, she sometimes didn't understand the simplest of words. Or it might had to do with her being some form of an aberrant herself, and hence didn't see the weirdness in her own species. Said aberrant seemed to have difficulties getting that big brain of hers back on track, since she was still staring at me with same expression, her mouth open in puzzlement.

I took a deep breath before answering, not wanting my anger to get the upper hand again. "The kid you put on my floor," I explained, dragging a hand through my hair.

Understanding flooded her eyes, and she sighed happily before leaning back onto the backrest of the chair.

"Oh, him!" she grinned, "He's such a cutie, and he's so interesting! His name is Ere-"

I held a hand up to interrupt her. "No, I don't want to hear your shit-talk, or his fucking name," I spat, "just get him out of there. We had an agreement."

"But, Levi-"

"No."

"But I haven't even explained," she said, a pleading expression written all over her face.

I would not compromise about own my privacy, no matter how much she begged. I shifted in my stance and stepped back towards the door, putting one hand on the handle. "No need to explain, just get him the fuck out. Today."

I didn't hear what the next words out of her mouth were, because when I opened the door, my eyes immediately fastened on a mop of brown hair bent down into a comic.

Realization dawned on me, and I could practically feel Four-eyes grinning down my neck, and I did little to contain the new burst of annoyance coursing through me, as I set out to get back to my room as quickly as possible. Had this been one of her new experiments?

_How much does it take for Levi to snap_? Because I sure as hell hadn't given my consent for it.

The gangly kid rose absently from his seat, and stumbled in my direction, his head unquestionably still wrapped up in the comic he'd just put down. I was about to comment on his ability to walk when he turned his head up, and locked his eyes on mine.

Whatever I had been about to say vanished from my mind, along with the anger that had boiled in me since yesterday, as I instead had a hard time focusing on what was real, because I was totally engulfed in the wide, bright eyes meeting mine. Time seemed to stretch itself into infinity as I stared unblinkingly at him.

They were green, with a tint of blue, just like the…

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of my lungs, rendering me unable of breathing for a moment. In my mind, I desperately searched for the word that had just evaded my grasp. It was just barely out of sight, taunting me to follow. I wasn't sure why, but I needed that word, as badly as I needed the oxygen back in my lungs. But no matter how hard I chased, it kept slipping away.

I was absently aware of that I was still in motion, but the connection to my limbs felt numb, and distant. The one thing that kept me upright and going forward was the magnetic stare he was fixing me with, dragging me towards him. It was like a force of nature had been trapped in those orbs. I was being pulled in, and there was little I could do to prevent it.

For a breath, I didn't want to.

Just when we were about to pass each other, a shiver erupted from the center of my chest, and spread through me, to reach distant parts of me that I didn't know still existed. Parts I'd sealed away a long time ago.

It was like when you drop a pebble in a pond, the tiny object creating ripples on the surface that keep growing and growing, but never quite disappear. They become part of the pond, just like the pebble, laying quietly on the bottom.

In that moment, he reached his way into me and claimed his place, and for a second I got the sensation that he already had. A vague, but somehow familiar warmth enveloped me, a feeling of security, of belonging, in a way I'd never experienced before.

I stared wide-eyed at the boy, no, the young man, before me. I'd thought he looked frail, but now, up close, I saw that he was far from weak. With his soft, bright eyes, and innocent face, he'd had me undone in seconds. I found myself never wanting to let go of the moment, never wanting it to pass. Wanting to grab it, trap it into myself so it would never escape me. Never wanting to let him go.

I don't know what I would have done if what followed hadn't happened.

In a flash, my senses and connection to my body returned, and it was with a crash I returned to reality. The feeling that I'd just experienced vanished from my system, and left my mind reeling in confusion.

After one last look, I forced my eyes away from his, and hurried to get out of the room.

.

.

Later that day, I still couldn't wrap my mind around what had actually happened. I laid flat on my back on the bed, and let my thoughts wander round freely, trying to sort out the knot of turmoil that had formed in my head.

With only a glance, he had been able to strip away years' worth of control I had ingrained in myself. The carefully crafted façade, my own security-blanket, had come undone in seconds, and in truth, it was bothering me how easily I'd lost myself in there.

But the feeling that had followed when my self-restraint had shattered had been… worth it.

It had been a glimpse, a possibility of something I'd never had, and the way it had been snatched away from me made me want to roar in frustration.

The last few months had offered the illusion of safety, and I knew it wasn't more than that. I had never been able to feel safe, I never could. But while meeting his bright eyes, if only for the short moment it really was, it hadn't been an illusion.

With my jaw clenched tight, I eased myself up to lean against the wall.

Now that I'd gotten a taste of what it could be like, all I wanted to do was to smash the illusion making up my life to bits, and demand the possibility back.

And I hated myself for it. I could never have it, I knew that.

But I couldn't stop myself from craving it.

And, somewhat worst of all, the person that had awoken that need, was mere inches away from me, his snoring echoing so loud through the wall it could probably wake the dead.

How was an annoying kid able to affect me like that?

Honestly, it was quite disturbing. Only yesterday he'd come to trespass on my quarters, and now he was even threatening my sanity. I dragged a hand over my face at the thought. The fucking brat even made me question myself.

Just hours ago, I had wanted him thrown out head first, but now I didn't know what to think anymore.

I left my snoring neighbor too cool my head with another session in the basement, and when an hour had passed, I was feeling much more like myself again. I had timed my leave perfectly, and no one would see me move through the house since all of them sat down in the dining room.

That would mean he would be there.

I involuntarily halted in my steps, and thought about it for a second. I needed to figure him out, what made him tick, if I was ever to understand how he could do, whatever it was, he did to me. It wasn't like I was going to talk to him, just observe him, and this was a good opportunity as any. Still, it would be better to just get him moved, and forget about the whole thing. Why did I need to figure it out? It wasn't going to lead anywhere.

Sounds of conversations from the dining room traveled down the hallway to where I stood, still debating whether to go back to my room, or to go and gather some more information.

Before I knew it, I was moving down the hallway towards the dining room, my full intention on watching the brat like some stalker.

The foyer bordering the dining room offered the perfect view, and I sank down onto one of the plush chairs in the sitting area. After crossing my legs and draping an arm lazily over the back of the chair, I plucked a magazine from a nearby table, and placed it in my lap. The idea of touching it in the first place disgusted me, but I couldn't just sit there and do nothing, that would look suspicious.

I flicked the first page open, and with my head bent down, pretended to be incredibly interested in the royal gossip. I let my bangs fall down to cover my eyes, allowing me to discretely look through the strands of hair.

I immediately spotted his hunched figure a few tables down in the room, sitting with his back to me in the company of the girls' trio.

I spent the following half hour watching how he squirmed, glanced away, and sat on his hands like some jittery schoolgirl. He behaved nothing like he had in the waiting room. While he had faced me head on, he now looked like he wanted to sink through the floor and disappear.

Was he nervous?

A smile twitched at the corner of my lips when I saw the freckled, giant girl snake an arm around the small blonde girl's shoulders, and then give him a sneer that made him cower in his seat.

No, not nervous. Scared. So, the girls scared him, but I didn't. I wasn't sure what to make of that.

After a few minutes the tight hold of his shoulders seemed to lessen, and he finally stopped fidgeting around in his seat. He even produced a laugh, though in such a soft tone I wouldn't have known it had been him if it weren't for the fact that I was fully focused on how his body was moving. Even though he'd relaxed to some degree, something told me he was still holding back. The roar of laughter I'd heard coming through the wall had been without restraint.

When I thought I couldn't sit there much longer without risk being seen, I put the magazine back on the table and carefully got out of my seat. In the corner of my eye I noticed to my surprise that he was also on his feet, so I hastily left the room, not wanting to be discovered sitting there ogling him like some pervert.

When I reached the hallway an idea suddenly occurred to me, and with a few quick steps, I was out on the patio, standing in the freezing dark. I started to question the reasoning for my actions just before I heard footsteps echo down the hallway. I pressed myself back into the railing, and waited for him to appear.

He came trudging in his usual manner, barely lifting his feet as he went on. Seriously could he be any less discreet?

My breath caught in my throat when he came to a halt, just in line with where I stood. It wasn't the freezing air that made a chill run down my spine when he slowly turned to face the doors. The situation felt inevitably familiar to when he managed to catch me watching in the window upstairs.

If it wasn't x-ray vision he had, then he must have some fucking super senses.

I watched how his eyes traveled from side to side, and when failing to notice me, I allowed myself to stop squeezing the railing in fear of my fingers going numb. He couldn't see me, and while his features was mostly shadowed by the dark, I could see him, and I would never forget the color of his eyes, and the way they kept reminding me of the feeling he had enticed in me. I could sense it now, slumbering inside me, not fully awake, but still there. Like it was waiting for something.

His expressive eyebrows crept together in a frown, and I couldn't help the smile that wanted to spread over me at the sight of his confused face. I kept it hidden, but the emotions whirling in was out of my control.

When I watched how he twisted his gangly body to turn away, and stared out through the glass one last time, I couldn't possibly grasp why, but in some twisted way I felt like I'd finally found home.

.

.

The following day started out with a lot of promise. I'd managed to pull enough hours of sleep to keep my mood on an even level. The brat, who I still wasn't sure what to think of, had kept quiet throughout the night, and hadn't even been in his room for the most of the day.  
If most days would be like this, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to let him stay next door a bit longer.

I went over to the laptop on my desk, deciding to check my e-mails. After not seeing anything new in my inbox, I propped my feet up at the corner of the desk, careful to not letting my bare feet touch the wood, and let out a low sigh.

Still nothing new. It had been months since I'd heard anything, and it was starting to worry me. They never kept this quiet for so long, so they must be pretty desperate to keep under the radar. Like I was. I'd sworn that I would keep away this time, but I could rarely stay away from things that bothered me.

Speaking of…

Trudging footsteps informed me that the brat was coming, and he was in a hurry. The smile that appeared on my face dropped as quickly as it had come when the door slammed shut, and another opened, and I then heard water drizzling across the hall.

What the fuck was he doing in my shower?

.

.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

.

.

Back in the yoga room, I eased myself up from the Child's pose and thought back on the previous day.

So, my behavior this morning hadn't been totally uncalled for. Still, I hadn't shoved my foot up his ass, like I said I would if he messed things up that were mine.

And, damn he had. How he'd been able to create such chaos in the bathroom in such a short amount of time was beyond me, and it had me inches away from kicking down his door.

The bathroom wasn't the only thing he'd messed up though.

He'd messed me up.

The things I'd done during the last hour spoke lengths of that. He was the third person I dared to close my eyes around, and I hadn't even thought about it until I was sitting there, while I knew he was watching me. If I thought I'd been bad for ogling him, he was even worse.

He was the second person I'd touched in a long while, when counting myself. I tried to convince myself it had been a pure reflex due to his poor form.

But it really hadn't.

In truth, he hadn't gotten the pose right, and it had all been too tempting to give him an extra nudge to get it right. What I hadn't counted on was what it would feel like to touch him. Even though I hadn't touched him in the true sense, the fabric separating us, tingles had spread through my palms and up my arms. Tingles that had me snatching back my hands, before they did something I hadn't let them.

He was the first person ever to take me off guard like he did.

The session had been all about seeing what he could do to me, and what I could do to him. And I'd learned plenty.

The blush tinting his cheeks when I'd caught him staring at me, was the first hint. The second hint was when I'd called him a brat. His eyes had nearly popped out of his skull, and his face had flushed with something else than embarrassment. It was easy to make him angry, so naturally I did just that, just to see how far I could bring him.

Every time he'd shown a flare of emotion, his green bluish eyes had shone, and that was all I wanted. I'd known there was more to him than the cowering figure I'd seen outside in the parking lot, or while quivering in the doorway when he first saw me in the yoga room.

I don't know what it was about him, but ever since I first met him, I had been inexplicably drawn to him, and I couldn't seem to stay away.

I rose from my position and gingerly started to roll up the mat.

I had never cared about names. To me, they were just useless tags you put on people to keep them apart, so they never truly meant anything to me. Names couldn't tell what kind of person you were. Names should indicate something about a person that immediately told you who they were.

I slid the mat back into the bag, sat it by the corner of the room, and then turned to face the window, letting the warm rays fall on my face.

This time, it was different. I didn't need an indication to what he was. He couldn't even be contained within an indication.

I let his name curl over my tongue as I spoke it, softly.

"Eren"

His name was Eren, and his eyes were fucking gorgeous.

.

.

I was pissed.

It had been three days, and I was starting to question myself. I hadn't been that awful had I? I only called him brat maybe once... or a few more times. It wasn't like I had been exactly expecting to see him down in the yoga room again, but I thought I would at least _see_ him occasionally. But when returning from yoga the next morning, I couldn't make out a single sound from next door until later the same evening. At first I even worried he'd left. But the same pattern had kept repeating itself since then, and I was growing restless.

I found myself wanting to see him, to see him make all the expressions he'd shown the other day. The expressions that made that slumbering feeling inside me stir, and come alive.

What was he doing all day? Was he actually avoiding me? He didn't even know I lived next door. Or did he…?

I was getting edgy to the point I was about to ask Four-eyes. But since she surely had some weird experiment going on concerning me, I was avoiding her like the plague. Therefor I found myself in the present situation.

I dragged a hand through my hair, and took a swig of my tea, gulping the hot liquid down without really tasting it.

"You look tired, Levi," he commented, and took a sip of his coffee.

"Of course I'm fucking tired, didn't you know I have a neighbor these days," I said, hiding the fact that it was the neighbor's absence that was making me feel like I hadn't slept for weeks.

He smiled gently, and looked at me with amusement playing in his usual cool, blue eyes. "So, I've heard."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "It wasn't your call?"

"No, he's Hanji's patient, so I left the decision up to her."

"Isn't the correct term _guest_?" I said in an attempt to tease him. He liked the term as little as I did.

He just chuckled, and put his own cup down, knowing I had more to say.

"I knew it was Four-eyes' idea," I continued while studying the floral pattern on the now empty tea cup. I tried to sound nonchalant when I followed up with, "What I don't see is why she put him up there with me, other than to spite me of course. Is he some kind of special case, like he can't be around the other freaks?"

"You mean the other _guests_?" he said, turning my words back at me, and had an easier time with using his eyebrows to emphasize his point, since they practically covered half his face.

"Whatever," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"You know I can't discuss details like that with you," he said, retorting to his usual calm, quiet state.

I sighed, despite knowing the answer beforehand. He had a great sense of integrity, especially regarding his patients. "Yea, I understand," I said, letting my gaze drift over the garden.

A hasty movement to my left caught my eye, just in time for me to make out a tangle of brown hair. I clenched the cup in my hand in anticipation. I hadn't seen him for days, and now…

"Why are you suddenly so interested in one of the patients?"

I flicked my eyes back to find him regarding me, a curious expression crinkling his eyes.

"I'm not," I said coolly, while placing the cup back down onto the table, trying not to show how much my hand was trembling.

"You're always been a bad liar, Levi."

A smirk curved my lips as I casually rose from the table, my attention slipping from the current situation. I was about to turn when I answered, "Whatever you say, Commander Eye-brows."

"Excuse me?"

I turned back with a sigh, and pointed at his puzzled face, "They're not exactly discreet."

He shook his head, and mentioned eye-brows knitted together, "No, why did you call me Commander?"

"I felt like it, I guess. Commander of the Eye-brows, or something," I said with a shrug, and with a nod indicated I was leaving.

He nodded slowly both at my explanation, and my parting gesture.

I didn't bother with moving slowly like I should have. I was done with being careful. I wasn't going to get any answers from wild guesses. I was done with waiting for him to magically appear outside my door with a box of answers.

When the trail turned, I followed, my steps quick but silent. The large trees loomed overhead, and a smile tugged at my lips.

If the brat wanted me to chase him, I was happy to oblige.

* * *

A/N – Thank you for reading, and if there are any errors or misspellings I've missed, let me know so I can fix them!  
Also, my schedule will be packed in the weeks to come, and while I wish to keep writing as much as I possibly can, my time to actually do it will be limited. My hope is to keep getting chapters out pretty often, but there might be some delays. So, just a heads up about that!


	6. Chapter 6

A new chapter is here, and it's so so very late! I'm sorry! Work has been more hectic than I anticipated, leaving me with very little time to write. Luckily my schedule will have a bit more room soon!

Thank you for the comments on the last chapter, they keep making me all giddy and squealing ^_^

A little warning on this chapter though, hrmm, there's a lot of introspection going on, but I felt it was necessary. Or should I say, Eren thought it was necessary, so blame him for making the chapter longer than usual! Still, I hope you will enjoy this chapter!

Also… pardon my **French**… *whistles and looks away innocently* (*= means there will be messy translations at the bottom!)

* * *

Summary: Eren gets a new talent, and also learns that Levi really enjoys talking about certain things.

* * *

_Eren_

There were a few things in life I considered I knew how to do pretty well.

Believe it or not, but I could cook. Not in like worth-Michelin-stars-cooking or anything, but I could handle the basics good enough. Just give me some ingredients, and I would whoop up a dish that would make you drool in a way that wasn't all too attractive. I blamed my laziness for not practicing my skills in the kitchen more often.

I could sleep like a log. When I was little, I could practically fall asleep anywhere. In the car. On the floor. In the cart when shopping for food. And when asleep, I was basically in a coma. You could jump me, hit me on the head, and scream stupid stuff in my ear –apparently Jean had done so in class several times- or really whatever you could think off. If I was low on sleep at the time, I would not wake until I did so on my own accord. It did create some problems to be honest. That was until one day when mom threatened to come in and wake me up with a kiss every morning before school. That very day I learned to either get in bed in time, or set an alarm, blaring out a mix of songs that I genuinely hated.

My third, as sometimes most important trait, was that when my friends were in trouble, I was the first one to step in and do whatever it took to get them out of there. Usually meaning me throwing a punch and get to the questioning later. Most times that worked out just fine since Mikasa was always there to save _my_ ass, whether it was to lend me her over massive strength in the fight, or use it to drag me away.

During the last few days I came down with a new addition to my list of talents.

Running.

As in running away.

And that was what I was doing at that moment. Well, not in the literal sense since my level of fitness, and lack of energy left a lot to wish for, so you might say I had picked up from my usual ambling, my goal set on what had functioned as my retreat for the last few days.

The sunlight filtering through the foliage over my head made me wish I'd brought sunglasses, since the stinging rays kept hurting my sleep-swollen, blotched eyes. After choosing a few well-deserved curses for my own stupidity, I pulled my hood low over my forehead and sped up the pace, hurrying to escape the, in fact, perfectly nice weather.

With every step I took away from the house I could feel the tightness in my shoulders loosen, as if the distance itself allowed me to relax. Instead, the fatigue which had been kept at bay by the tension, threatened to take over and turn my limbs into jello, so it was with a wide yawn I struggled to keep awake the remaining distance to my goal.

After reaching the edge of the garden bordering on the surrounding forest I took a deep breath, filling my lungs deep with the earthy, slightly moist air. Across from me stood my lowly companion, proud and tall as ever.

"Hey buddy," I mumbled, reaching out to absently stroke the bark of the giant tree.

Yes, I greeted a tree. I didn't dwell on it. Much.

After climbing into the familiar hollow, I nestled myself down on the ground, a sigh of relief rushing through my lips. The chill creeping through my thick hoodie reminded me of how late it actually was in the year, the clear, blue sky being deceptive as it often was in October. With a tug, I pulled my hands into my sleeves in an effort to try and stay warm. Not even my seemingly warmer temperature helped much when deciding to use my hideout as a resting place.

Because that was exactly what it was.

It was the only place where I'd gotten some form of effective sleep during the last few days. So, in fact, while adding 'running' to my list of talents, 'sleep like a log' had been slightly altered.

I cringed at the thought of Mikasa knowing I spent my days huddled up, sleeping, inside a tree. I knew the expression, and exact color her face would take before she would resort to violence. With me being the victim.

But if she ever got to experience what I was going through, then maybe she would-

No, who was I kidding?

Mikasa would never run away like a scared little kid. She faced her troubles head on, like I used to do. That was a trait I used to be proud of to share with her. Now, I counted it as a talent fallen off my list.

I tilted my head back with a sigh, resting it against the curved inside of the trunk. Despite it not being a really good ability, meaning running away, I thought I was doing a pretty decent job at it. I hadn't seen-

_The pressure of his hands, both forceful and gentle on my back._

I banged my head back in an attempt to get rid of the uninvited thought sprung in my mind, but I only accomplished to send another jolt of pain through my skull. Wincing, I reached back to knead the now sore spot.

Great. Now my head hurt on the outside as well.

The headache that had been eating at me since yesterday was a clear sign that the lack of sleep was pushing me into developing some sort of sleeping disorder, and slamming my head into a tree wasn't the smartest idea around, but what was I supposed to do when-

_Cool, grey eyes, their edges narrowed thin, watching my every move. Stalking me, stripping me bare. Making me a quivering mess for more reasons than I could count. _

For a moment I wished I could have a lobotomy done. Perhaps I could ask Hanji? I didn't think it would be too hard to convince her in the name of science. If I'd been mentally insane like a hundred years ago, then there wouldn't have been a question about it if anyone found out I was having _these_ kinds of thoughts. Afterwards I wouldn't have to think at all. Especially not about-

_His voice. Low in his throat, controlled, like the rest of his body. The voice that had the ability to form words that made my blood boil, and curl my name in a way that made me want to hear it again, and again._

I bit down on the muscle of my thumb, the sharp pain forcing away the shiver that threatened to overwhelm me. Numerous indents showed where my teeth had been, the skin now tender from performing the action several times.

**Bastard. **

Ever since that morning in the basement, my days, and nights, had been a living hell. For the first time in a year, my mind had been filled with something –someone– else than the constant fear of experiencing another attack. Now, I was desperate enough to have it all back.

Anything but whatever this was.

The fear had been a constant in my life, a horrible one, but still something that was stable, reliable. That very state had grained down on my emotions until they were near non-existent, to the point where I felt almost completely numb. I preferred that numbness over the current state of the continuous rollercoaster of emotions that swept through me every waking hour.

I even woke up at night, clinging to my sheets and out of breath, ravished by dreams I couldn't control. It was like he was constantly in my head, and the more I tried to push him away, the more he clawed his way back in.

When even the safety of my own walls started to come apart, closing in on me, making me feel trapped like I was back in the apartment, I thought about leaving Rose Hill altogether. Mikasa would come get me without me asking twice, since she hadn't been keen on me going here in the first place.

But I'd abandoned the idea before I'd even picked up the phone.

I was here for a reason. Even though I hadn't experienced an attack in about a week, I doubted they would stay gone simple as that. Stuff didn't work out like that.

Or could they?

I'd probed Hanji for answers, but even she hadn't been able to offer any explanation to their absence, just that sometimes a change of environment could have a positive effect on the brain. Then she had dwelled into details of the making of…serotonin…? And its connection to sunlight –or whatever– I had tuned out at the mention of neurons. After she'd come down from her high, she'd asked if there was perhaps something else on my mind, a curious glint apparent in her eyes.

_A black-haired, tattooed sadist_, my mind practically screamed, intent of making itself heard.

I didn't give into it.

Instead, I simply shrugged and said, 'Nope, nothing much'. By the looks of it, she'd picked up on the slight wavering of my voice, and with the wide grin spreading over her face, it was clear she hadn't bought my line. In an attempt to steer her away from analyzing my dodgy answer any deeper, I asked what the deal was with the supposed yoga-class. I tried hard not to blush when asking.

With eyes practically sparkling, she barked a laugh, and explained that she hadn't explicitly said there would be a _class_. Thinking back, she was actually right.

'Excellent teaching-methods'. My ass.

Seeing my less-than-happy expression, she flung out her notebook, pen in hand, and demanded details. I blurted something about an acute need to use the bathroom, and hearing an '_It's important to heed your bowel movements!_' I left the office.

And that left me where I was. Hiding inside a tree. Totally feeling like a little brat.

_One point to the sadist._

I scooted around to lean the side of my face against the trunk, careful not to get splinters onto my cheek.

I didn't want to be this person I'd become these last few days, a person who escaped his troubles. It wasn't who I was. I still saw myself as that person who ran in head-long into the fray, and dealt with the consequences later.

But this was different.

I didn't know what to do.

This wasn't a time when I could let my fists do the talking for me. And there wasn't anyone here to get me out of the mess either, no one to save me but myself. I fathomed leaving wouldn't solve my issue either, because honestly, I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to run from what was really eating at me.

Him.

It was the opposite really. I longed to see him again. To talk to him, to be around him. To experience whatever it was that kept pulling my thoughts to him.

And that was partly why I was running in the first place.

I breathed out a sigh of frustration. The other thing that was bothering me was my own reaction to this person. A person who repeatedly insulted me, and made me feel like I was five years old. Calling me names, and mocking me to the point where my face resembled a tomato. _Why_ would I want to meet a person like that again?

Though, all those things wasn't truly the reason to why I was hiding.

I sagged down even more where I sat, feeling utterly defeated. I knew why. I knew why I couldn't sleep at night. Why I spent my days in a tree.

I was running from whatever he had woken in me since I first saw him.

He had made me feel again.

I don't know where in my little reverie I drifted off, but soon I was finally swept away by sleep.

I was far off in la la land when I felt my body moving, like someone was shaking me. Through my sleep-clogged head the idea sounded absurd, so I pushed it away, and sunk deeper back into unconsciousness.

Then, I was shook again, harder this time, and with a groan I tried to free myself of whatever it was that kept disturbing me. Needless to say, it only got worse, as I then was held firmly in place, something clamping down on my shoulders.

As if far away, I became aware of someone talking, and even though the sounds reaching my ears were muffled and distant, that was the one voice I couldn't ignore.

"Hey, wake up already."

I winced inwardly at the sharp tone. He didn't waste time asking nicely did he? Blunt as ever. I couldn't wrap my jumbled mind around to why he was being so rough with me, since he knew I was a heavy sleeper.

"Mgghh," I grumbled, trying to shift onto my side, vaguely puzzled over why my bed seemed to be made out of wood.

Had he moved me downstairs _again_?

The pressure on my shoulders hardened at my lack of actual words, so with an effort I tried coming up with something to let me sleep for a bit longer, "Not…yet, Heichou… I'm so sleepy."

"Heich-", he clipped himself off. "What are you talking about Eren?" he asked, confusion mingled with frustration in his voice.

At the sound of my name being uttered I couldn't resist the desire to see him, despite sleep trying to pull me under. Cracking one eye open I found him watching me, only inches away.

Mmm, I must still be sleeping, I mused, glancing drowsily around myself before looking back at him.

I think we were outside, in the woods somewhere, the rustling of leaves and crisp air swirling around us. Light shone around the outline of his sitting form, like he was blocking the view from me. Although, the view I was having was much better.

A lazy smile stretched over my face as I took in his fine, angular features, all of them which I sometimes thought I knew better than my own. The slight curve of his upper lip on the rare occasion that he allowed himself to smile. The subtle lines framing his cool greys, which could crinkle adorably, and momentarily take the burden off his shoulders.

An incredible warmth spread through me as I kept gazing, transfixed, on the man before me.

When reality, and the world within it, could be cruel, you appreciated when you got dreams like the one I was having. For a moment you were allowed a place where nothing awful could reach you, and you could do whatever you wished, and right then, I shared my place with the person closest to my heart.

His eyes widened a fraction when I reached out to brush away a strand of raven hair that had managed to escape his usually neat hair due. Tugging the unruly hair to the side, I noticed a faint blush cover his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, placing my hand on the side of his face, "I know you don't like it when I call you-"

Then, it was like someone dumped a bucket of ice-water over my head.

I wasn't in my bed.

And this…wasn't a dream.

I was hurled back to the present, staring unblinkingly at the person before me, suddenly wide awake. He sat down in a low crouch facing me, pinning me against the tree with his fingers gripped tight around my shoulders. The usually cool eyes now swam with a thousand questions, and I was shocked to see my own expression mirrored in his. While my own breathing being halted, I could feel his crossing the almost non-existent distance between us in small puffs to caress my skin.

And in the corner of my eye I caught sight of my hand.

Which was still placed gently on his cheek.

I let out a surprised yelp, flinging my hand back as if I'd burned myself.

_Which, in a way, I had. _

My elbow slammed hard into the wall behind me, reminding me that I was trapped between him and the tree. The air in the little hollow suddenly felt thick, sticking in my throat as I pulled down another breath into my lungs. I was painfully aware of his hands on me, and the fact that he hadn't moved an inch. He was still regarding me with that unreadable expression, and I couldn't fathom whether it was from the shock of me touching him or the fact that I had called him-

Hadn't it been a dream? For a second I thought he was… What had I called him? Why had I…? What-

My head seemed to rush through the questions faster than I could even think to answer them. Panic built up in my chest, my pulse thudding in my ears so loudly I was afraid he would be able to hear. With his godly scent reaching my nostrils I was close to losing it. I couldn't let him see me like this.

A small whine escaped my throat, and with that, realization flooded his eyes, making him practically leap backwards several steps. Standing a few feet away, he hurriedly brushed down on his sweatpants, as if he'd dirtied them, and muttered, "Hey, don't shit yourself, I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead or something. "

I just stared as he went from being wide-eyed with rosy cheeks –inches away– to leaning almost casually in the opening of the hollow, the perfect composure back in place, while I myself was on the verge on a panic-induced coma. With his arms folded over his chest, and regarding me with a blank stare, he made me feel even worse.

"I was just sleeping, that's all," I blurted, scrambling to get my sprawled limbs back in order. Even when sleeping in a tree, it seemed I kept my usual habit of sleeping like a monkey. Fitting really considering the circumstances.

A low tsk reached my ears, and I glanced back to find him scowling even more severely than usual. "You can't just sleep here, dumbass".

"Why not?" I asked, not understanding what he was getting at.

"It's not safe here," he said with a slight roll of his eyes, like it was obvious.

_It was safe from the likes of you just moments ago_, I thought, irritation making my eyebrows creep together.

Why had he of all people managed to catch me sleeping? It only added yet another thing for him to tease me for, and I was getting real tired of peeling myself off from the soles off his boots.

"You sound like my sister," I grumbled, easing myself off the ground, brushing away a few leaves caught on my pants.

He was quiet for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sounds like your sister got the brains for the both of you then," he said, and I could literally hear how much that line amused him.

I fought the urge to let my fist rearrange his face, as I would probably get my ass handed to me in seconds without Mikasa present. But the idea was so tempting I had to put my hands in my back pockets, and take a deep breath to try and control myself. No. My hands would stay where they were. There would be no punching. And no touching.

Touching…

I bit my lip at the thought, a wave of heat rolling over me, threatening to color my cheeks in the distinctive shade I knew he was familiar with by now.

_What had I been doing?_

I glanced warily to find him watching me closely, like he was counting the seconds until I resembled a tomato.

To keep myself from further mortification I blurted the first thing that came to mind. "I'm not the one going around stalking people."

Something flashed in his eyes before they turned back to their icy stare, and he shifted onto his other leg, leaning heavily into the entrance.

His voice was collected as usual when he spoke, "I wasn't aware that you owned the place? As far as I know I'm allowed to go anywhere I like."

How he managed to twist my words around to not answering me was another trait I didn't appreciate. "You didn't answer my question," I snapped and took an involuntarily step forward to stare down at him.

He inclined his head to the side, one eyebrow raised marginally. "There was a question? I only heard an accusation."

"You know what I mean," I growled through gritted teeth, taking another step towards him.

"What's up with the attitude?"

"Don't you think it would be creepy to wake up to stare in some guy's face?"

"Levi"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, with my eyebrows practically growing together at that point. Finally I managed a mumbled "Huh?"

He shifted where he stood, fingers clenched tight around his left bicep. "Instead of _some guy_, it's Levi," he said, his voice barely audible over the sudden gush of air which seemed to flow in to the little hollow.

My anger cooled down from painting-my-vision-red, to a dull reminder in the back of my head, and I just stared as he broke eye contact, pushing away from his leaning stance on the tree. He turned, stepping away from me, head moving fractionally from side to side as if observing the surroundings before he made his way to a nearby tree instead.

_Levi._

I rolled the name around my mind, playing with the idea of it spilling out of my mouth. Which was exactly what would happen if I didn't control my tongue.

I didn't understand why, but I got the feeling he didn't go around giving his name to just anyone. Why he'd let me of all people in on it was beyond me. Especially when his behavior suggested he had some hidden agenda towards me, including humiliation and torment.

_Maybe he gives his name to people who touches him_, my mind offered, sounding smug.

Not. Going. There.

_Ever_.

I shot the thought down, and forced my attention back to him. Not that I needed any encouragement. My eyes seemed to automatically fasten on him where he stood facing the tree across from where I stood placed in the opening of the hollow. With my rapidly changing mood taking a turn for the better at the moment, I allowed myself to relax, as it surely would change soon again.

With his head inclined upwards, he was once again wearing the look of being a million miles away in thought. But you never knew with this guy. Even while risking being discovered, the bastard probably having a set of eyes on his neck, I took the opportunity to shamelessly let my eyes drift over him.

Didn't he own anything but workout clothes? Only the black, thick hoodie stood out from his usual attire of sweatpants, and what I believed would be a tank top underneath. I kind of wished he hadn't been wearing the hoodie so I could see his tattoos. Not that I blamed him for not wanting to freeze his balls of just so I could inspect his arms. _Only_ to see the ink, I reminded myself.

The black markings had intrigued me since I first saw them, and I longed to see what they actually entailed. I'd never gotten around to get a tattoo myself, since the numerous visits to the hospital had left me terrified of pointy things, meaning needles.

I hoped to get the chance to see them more closely one day though. Preferably when he wasn't wearing as much clothing…

I scolded myself for the increasingly slipping thought, and stared down at the ground, following to grind a fallen leaf with my boot.

What was wrong with me? My thoughts were _really_ getting out of control.

First. The dream –that happened not to be a dream– _thank god_ he hadn't used that against me, _yet_, he probably just wanted to forget all about it anyway, and secondly, I was in the midst of having a full on ogling contest, with myself as the only participant.

I then realized something that honestly hadn't crossed my mind before, even though it _should_ have.

He was a guy. I was ogling a _guy_.

_Very perceptive of you smart-ass. _

I didn't know if it was my own mind talking, or if I imagined him saying it. Probably both.

"Stop staring at my ass, and come here." His clipped tone brought me back blushing, and I involuntarily stumbled forward, my legs apparently dead set on following his command.

With a barely noticeable glance over his shoulder he turned to face me, nudging his head in the direction of the giant tree. The dark circles under his eyes was even more noticeable out in the sunlight, making him look like he hadn't slept in a week.

"What do you see?" he inquired, motioning to his left.

Following the movement I said, "Umm… a tree?" What was he getting at?

"Yes, genius, a tree."

The roll of his eyes reminded me I still bore a load of anger inside, despite me staring shamelessly at him a moment ago, but this time, I wasn't going to let my temper get the better of me. Especially when he probably just wanted to get a reaction out of me. _Fucking sadist._

I cocked my head to the side, giving him what I wished was an unimpressed look, "So? What's your point?"

With eyes narrowed thin he said, "This," pointing at the large trunk, "is a big-ass tree, and not some god-damned hotel for brats to sleep in."

I tried to keep it in, I really did, but perhaps it was because of all the tension pent up inside for days that brought down my bodily reaction, because then I lost it. I truly lost it.

I heaved over with laughter spilling out of my mouth, mouth flapping wildly as I wrapped my arms around my stomach, leaving him standing with his finger still pointed at the trunk. I didn't care that I probably looked like I was having a seizure or whatever, because right then, laughing had never felt as good. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and streamed down my cheeks, leaving them wet and blotched.

All because of a word coming out of his mouth.

He stared incredulously at me as I finally came down from my high, one eyebrow raised in question.

"What?" he demanded, folding his arms in the usual manner.

Using my sleeve as a momentary handkerchief, I wiped off the tears, and other body fluids, that had escaped my system during my fit. The action elicited a disgusted snarl from him, and with the way he eyed my sweater after I was done, I thought he wanted me to burn it.

With a wide grin still on my face, I stretched back up, feeling positively refreshed. Suddenly a bold thought crossed my mind, and with my current mood I couldn't resist following up on the idea.

"What's up with your vocabulary?" I mentally clapped myself on the back for remembering something from school, "I mean, with the way you look," motioning towards his baggy clothes, and naturally scowling expression, "I'm not surprised, but on the other hand I thought adults were supposed to have learned better words to use."

If he could throw insults, he better be prepared to take them.

As it happened, he took them pretty well.

A small smirk played at the corners of his mouth, making something in my stomach flutter.

Just a tiny bit.

"As a grown up, I have the choice to use what words I like, you little shits don't have the same option," he said, leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

"When I'm as old as _you_ I'm just going to use fancy words, not like words like 'shit' that you seem to love."

"How eloquent of you," he said, quirking an eyebrow, "though, as it is, 'shit' is a perfect word. You can use it to describe people, as in little _shits_ like you," giving me another smirk, "then, when you're actually taking a shit, you can describe it afterwards; _that was a good long shit_. You can say something is shitty, what shitty weather, shitty day, _shitty brat_."

I shook my head at him explaination, "You are seriously disgusting."

"Says the one with bacteria smeared all over his clothes," he said, the smirk falling off his face while eyeing my sleeves.

I grinned, and raised my arms towards him, "Its only snot, tears and drool."

Internally I marveled over the way he tried pressing himself backwards, only to find himself in the same position I'd been in earlier.

With that, I knew I'd finally learned something to tick him off.

_One point for me._

And as it happened, our first proper discussion without arguing to the point of me storming off consisted of shit, and other body fluids. Great.

Later, while watching the blue sky paint itself with orange as dusk approached, laying curled up on the bed I'd finally dared to return to, I thought about how easy Levi actually was to talk to when I didn't want to punch him in the face. We had managed to avoid the subject about me touching him, and had fallen into a kind of comfortable and even fun conversation, albeit it revolving around disgusting stuff you generally didn't talk about.

How fitting.

As it was, he turned out to be kind of an oddball, and I found myself relaxing around him, the previous tension I'd experienced almost being gone. Almost.

I'd been aware of the proximity as we talked. The small signs that let me in on what he was feeling. The way he dug his fingers into his arms when he got troubled. The way his facial expression could disappear almost completely, and be replaced by the permanent scowl when I said something he thought was completely out of hand. The way his eyes squeezed thinner when he thought something was amusing. The way it made my stomach flip, reminding me of my heart, beating so very quickly in my chest. The pulse thudding in my ears when I caught myself wanting to reach out and touch him again.

The contact hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough. I found myself wanting more. Needing more. What that _more_ entailed, I wasn't sure.

It wasn't just that he looked okay, he looked _more_ than okay.

He was beautiful. Cheesy as fuck, I know, but that was the word I ended up with.

More than his good looks, it was the way he handled me. He didn't just take my words. He used them, turned them back against me, pressing me into expressing my thoughts in ways that rivaled the numerous shrinks I'd met recently.

The way he stirred the emotions kept at bay for so long. Not only the ones numbed for the time of my supposed illness, but in a way, like all of them had been buried inside, without me even noticing. Now they swirled, and swam around freely just below the surface. And I could pluck them out easily as breathing. I had never experienced anything like this, this kind of connection with another person.

It had only been a few days, but deep down I felt like I'd already known him for a lifetime, and that was why I didn't discard what I was feeling due to only being attraction.

I was falling for this person. No, that wasn't enough to describe it. I was racing head-long into this unknown territory, and honestly, I could care less about the consequences.

.

.

I was shoved hard against the polished wood of the sleek, black grand piano, making the keys wring out in a string of deafening chimes. The sharp edge dug into the back of my thighs, and the sudden pain made me stumble, stifling a muffled gasp of air.

That wasn't the only thing that made me gasp.

In a split-second he was on me. The flashing movement pushing me back, and down onto the keys again, which chime echoed in the candlelit room. With deft hands he tore at the silk clad buttons of my embroidered waistcoat, freeing every button with a fierce desire. For a second he paused, and rose up to brush his lips by my ear, and the hot breath of his mouth made me squeeze my eyes shut, relishing in the shivers traveling down my body.

"Je tiens à vous dévorer," he breathed, and bit softly at my earlobe, while continuing his onslaught with the buttons. My knees nearly buckled at his husky words, even though I didn't understand their meaning.

I gripped his flexed arms in an attempt to support myself, and through thick lashes I saw the light of the many candles in the room warm the color of his embellished coat to a deep red, making the tied white fabric around his neck stand out in sharp contrast. He'd bent his head down again, cursing as he worked on the buttons, and I couldn't resist the urge to let my finger travel along the thick fabric covering his shoulders, up towards his ear and stroke back a lock of raven hair, which had escaped the hair due he wore instead of a wig. I loved his constant refusal to wear one, as it allowed me to curl my fingers through his long black locks, and tease away the short string which held it together at the back of his neck, letting the hair pool down around his shoulders.

As I did, he let out a low growl of frustration and finally managed to get the silky fabric of my vest open. He didn't have any patience left for my equally buttoned shirt though, so he proceeded with simply ripping it open to expose my bare chest. When feeling his teasing breath hover over my sensitive skin, I let my hands fall from his hair to grip the edge of the piano.

After sliding his silky gloved hands up along my spine, he pulled me towards him and onto his hot mouth. He let his tongue trace teasingly slow patterns across my chest, leaving searing trails behind, and when nearing my right nipple I couldn't contain a pleasured moan.

"Vous êtes si bruyant," he breathed, a threat hidden in the husky tone.

Another whiny moan spilled through my parted lips as he slid his hands low on my back, dangerously close to the edge of my breeches. He knew what his hands did to me, and so, he continued letting them travel down the silky fabric to cup the now tender parts of my backside. I writhed beneath his touch and pushed myself towards him.

"Rivaille," I moaned, releasing my grip on the piano to run my fingers through his hair again.

He growled low and menacing in his throat, and snatched my hands away, pinning them back down onto the piano. While holding me in place, his hips pressed hard against mine, he started assaulting my flushed skin with his mouth and tongue again, stopping only for a heartbeat to reach and whisper darkly against my ear, "Je vais vous faire hurler soir."

.

.

I practically flew out of my bed, the husky voice still tingling in the back of my head. The rush of blood pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of my forced breathing.

_What in the actual fuck was that?_

Standing a few feet away on trembling legs, I shot an angry glare towards my bed, silently cursing its existence for making me dream like that. Because it was totally the bed's fault. Totally.

After a few minutes of pacing I settled down on the chair by the desk, mulling over what I'd just seen.

What _had_ happened?

The graphic details, so livid and colorful in my head. The intimacy, and the way it made me feel. The way it made me flush all over. Literally _all_ over. I squeezed my eyes shut to fling them back open instantly as the image of a raven-haired man wearing a long red coat crossed my mind. It had been…

…him.

And meaning him, I was confused over just _who_ that person was.

When first seeing the person, the height and built of his body made me guess it was Levi –the idea of it wasn't too far-fetched when considering I was thinking about him constantly– but then, the feeling of it all had been familiar. It had been _him_. As in the person responsible for my attacks. The stranger.

The pattern of his touch was burned in my skin, like I knew it by instinct, and it was by instinct I knew it had been him. But then, why had I thought it was Levi?

I thought back to what happened earlier during the day, in that dream. Or rather, what I thought had been a dream. Despite it had clearly been Levi, that wasn't the name I'd called out.

What had it been? I wracked my brain for the answer that seemed to slip away when I tried searching for it.

…_Heichou? _

A sense of familiarity coming over me told me that was the one I'd searched for.

And what was up with this _Rivaille_? I fought back another shiver, the name feeling all too familiar on my tongue.

I stood up, legs trembling as I started pacing back and forth again. I couldn't understand any of it, no less why my dreams had decided on confusing me further with giving the stranger Levi's face.

Perhaps because he was the person occupying my mind most often?

Not wanting to delve into it in the middle of the night, and not feeling particularly sleepy anymore, I decided I needed a distraction. And naturally I came up with the best if ideas fitting for the time of the hour.

It was time to practice my skills.

After some time I found my way to the kitchen, set behind the grand dining room. It was huge, almost on the scale of a professional kitchen, looking like it stocked every imaginable tool you needed to make a three-course meal fit for royalty. I didn't hesitate on heading straight up to the fridge at take a look at what it had to offer. Hanji would probably be happy with me eating anyway.

"To keep my stamina up, right?" I mumbled to myself, stuffing my arms with eggs, fresh herbs and various things for making an omelet. Turning around I nearly dropped it all when I came face to face with Levi, sitting in a dark corner of the room.

"You need your stamina?" he mused, holding a cup of tea gingerly by his fingertips, and I would have commented on the weird why if I wasn't close to pissing myself right then.

"What the fuck Levi?" I growled, dumping the items down on the kitchen island before me.

He regarded me with a look I couldn't comprehend, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than before. After taking another sip, he set the cup down on the counter next to him, and curled his lips into something bordering on a smile and a snarl, giving him a look I'd never seen before.

My breath caught in my throat as he fixed me with a long stare, his voice low and raw in his throat when he asked, "Who's Rivaille?"

* * *

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Translations

Je tiens à vous dévorer = I want to devour you

Vous êtes si bruyant = You are so noisy

Je vais vous faire hurler soir = I will make you scream tonight

_Please_, if I got any of these wrong, let me know so I can change them! (Google translate isn't the best tool out there…)


End file.
